It was as though the International Powerlifting Federation’s (IPF) tarnished reputation throughout the powerlifting community was practically cleansed overnight. The Sheffield Powerlifting Championships, a contest hosted by SBD in its namesake hometown of Sheffield in the UK, gathered a tiny handful of the world’s top powerlifters to do battle. It was an unprecedented success and a spectacle whose appeal extended far beyond the small powerlifting community. Despite years of pandemic-induced delay, the final product was worth waiting for. Its format, predicated on breaking world records, the rapid pace of the meet thanks to its small roster, and the elite strength of said roster, all made this meet far more accessible to a broader audience. Moments like Cayco’s staredown, Jesus’s monstrous squat and total, Amanda Lawrence’s monstrous deadlift, and Evie Corrigan’s upset, circulated the sports zeitgeist, broadening powerlifting’s exposure to all-new audiences.

Understandably, after having to watch such an extraordinary meet from the sidelines, many of USA Powerlifting’s (USAPL) top lifters began experiencing FOMO. This year’s exciting IPF World Championships just added salt to the wound. A few of those same lifters, like Russel Orhii and Ashton Rouska, have either been rumored to or have explicitly expressed interest in moving over to Powerlifting America (AMP) (the IPF’s American member federation), both so they can get on an even playing field with some of these monster competitors across the globe, and so they can try their hand at securing a spot in what is now arguably powerlifting’s biggest meet. Additionally, the USAPL’s recent foibles around scheduling and sign-ups for the 2023 USAPL Raw Nationals have probably also left a bitter taste in some competitors’ mouths.

One might be led to imagine that this impending exodus of the very highest echelon of USAPL lifters will mark the beginning of its end. For obvious reasons, I don’t think it’s so clear cut; even without those lifters, USAPL will still sustain a healthy roster of lifters who will eventually come to fill the shoes of those who leave.

IPF Article 14 Throws a Wrench In All That

Edit: After publishing, I felt that I should clarify something about Article 14 that I left poorly explained. The rules highlighted below are only applicable if a lifter is a member in the IPF or one of its member federations. So, realistically in the US, it only applies to some lifters at a very high level, like Russell Orhii. However, the point still stands that lifters will not be able to crossover once they become members of AMP.

One major snare in this whole equation is Article 14 of the IPF Constitution. Therein lies the following:

Any athlete, coach, referee or official who competes or participates in an International Powerlifting or Bench Press event not organised, sanctioned, or approved by the IPF shall not be permitted to take part in any IPF international, regional or national event for a period of 12 months from the date of that non-approved event.

Any athlete, coach, referee or official that participates in any competition or Event which is organized by a Sporting Body, Federation or Organisation that has not received recognition from the World Anti-Doping Agency and is thus non-compliant with the Code and International Standards shall be automatically rendered ineligible and shall not be permitted to take part in an authorized National or International Powerlifting or Bench Press Event for a period of 12 months from the date of the last non-compliant Event. Should the athlete, coach, referee or official participate in an unauthorized Powerlifting or Bench Press Event prior to the lapse of the 12 months, he/she may be sanctioned with a period of ineligibility of an additional 12 months from the date of the non-compliant Event. In the case of a second infringement for such participation, the period of ineligibility may be a maximum of 24 months. The decision to extend the period of ineligibility will be at the sole discretion of the Anti-Doping Commission.

In other words, athletes and even coaches participating in USAPL events this year may not be able to compete for up to 2 years in an IPF event afterward. I understand that time horizons are generally relatively distant in powerlifting, but 2 years without a single competition is still a long time. I also believe that it makes no sense that additional testing, regardless of its adherence to WADA standards, should invalidate a lifter from receiving subsequent testing and/or the ability to participate, but my opinion is beside the point. Most lifters, even those at the very top, will not have the patience to go one to two whole years without competition; as such, this fact alone will discourage them from moving over. And this will continue to be the case unless and until this article is amended or removed.

The IPF’s Prize Pools Only Cater to the Very Top

When the USAPL created its Pro Series, it did so under the pretense that high-level lifters will have many opportunities to be invited to meets where they could potentially earn prize money. In many ways, that promise has not been realized. Pro Series meets have been paltry in their number, and the total yearly prize pool is less than the prize pool at Sheffield alone. However, that’s the thing: the Sheffield, as far as I understand it, is the only IPF meet, at least for American lifters, that awards prize money, and its roster is incredibly slight; only effectively the top 24 lifters in the IPF (as determined by their performance at Worlds) were invited this year.

On the other hand, there are several avenues by which USAPL lifters can become Pro Series lifters, including placing top 3 at Nationals or winning best lifter at multiple Pro Qualifier meets. Yeah, the prize pool won’t be nearly as substantial as what could be won at the Sheffield, but that is bound to change as USAPL’s dues-paying memberships and sponsors grow. The distribution of prize money is also simply more equitable. “Tier 2” lifters capable of upsets could potentially amass some decent winnings at these Pro Series meets, whereas the chance of that happening at the Sheffield for any lifter shy of the top 0.01% is slim to none.

There Aren’t That Many Powerlifting America Meets Available

Increased access to meets is an obvious prerequisite for federations to expand their reach. USAPL is already somewhat notorious in the community for not having enough meets to satisfy member demands. In highly populated areas, meets can often fill up in a matter of hours or even minutes. But seeing as Powerlifting America (AMP) is relatively infantile, it's even worse on that side of the powerlifting world. For instance, this year alone, AMP only held 37 meets nationwide, as compared to 269 under USAPL, and it’s only July. Presumably, this discrepancy will shrink with time, but it certainly doesn’t appear to be on pace to do so any time soon. Thus, this factor will continue to impact the rate at which people are willing to migrate to AMP.

Some People Just Like USAPL Better

USAPL and IPF have developed several technical and presentational differences since their schism, and many would prefer the alternatives put forth by USAPL. Most IPF/AMP meets have a very clinical atmosphere not beholden to great spectating or exciting competition, with pretty much the sole exception being the Sheffield. Yes, the content of the meet and the performance of the lifters is obviously paramount. However, it certainly doesn’t hurt to spice things up and put on a more entertaining exhibition, especially in a sport that is still growing into the mainstream.

Additionally, several other technical differences might compel some lifters toward the USAPL. Some notable examples include:

• USAPL follows the classic weight class system adopted by most other non-IPF federations in the world, as opposed to the IPF’s arguably oversimplified weight classes.

• USAPL has eliminated the need for head contact with the bench during the bench press.

• USAPL likely performs more drug tests per capita.

• The controversial bench depth rule implemented in the IPF does not impact USAPL.

“Second-Tier” Lifters Will Rise to the Occasion

Powerlifting’s elite class is a constantly rotating cast of characters. New lifters are always rising to become the new cream of the crop. Just because a fraction of a percentage of the USAPL’s top lifters may venture out to pursue Sheffield gold, that doesn’t mean that everyone else will follow. And as quickly as they left, new lifters will rise to the occasion and fill the shoes of their forebears, coming near or matching the competitiveness of those they replace. As such, their competitiveness will continue to draw those of their ilk. USAPL currently has the most competitive roster of lifters in America, and even on the world stage, when comparing the very top level, its top lifters in aggregate are not that far behind the best in the IPF (or, in some cases, are even stronger).

There is nothing for USAPL administrators or lifters to fundamentally be concerned about. It is unfortunate that so many complicating factors make it impossible for lifters to cross over. In a perfect world, lifters could potentially compete in both federations with little practical issue, but unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world, and the IPF would rather not accommodate this.

Contact the IPF

If you hope to see a change in this dictate, I would suggest you make your voice heard to the IPF. You can contact them via the button I provided. Otherwise, I would suggest you elect to compete in the federation most agreeable to your aspirations, your needs and wants, your values, and a competitve roster to facilitate all of that. For most tested athletes in the States, I would imagine that the larger roster, the greater potential for prize money, more frequent testing, more meet availability, the ability to cross over into most other federations, and a better track record of receptiveness to community feedback probably makes that decision lean heavily in favor of USAPL, regardless of an elite handful of lifters flocking elsewhere. Hopefully, AMP can serve as a vehicle to affect and ameliorate longstanding misgivings within the community towards the IPF if they hope to attract more than a few A-list lifters away from their competition.

The strength training cognoscenti have gone abuzz on the subject of deloads again. Highly respected figures on both sides of this issue have staked their positions for many years. While I think most have an appropriate and nuanced perspective on the issue as a whole, some are vehemently in the camp of completely discrediting the idea of programmed deloads. They have sought to popularize the notion that the traditional practice of programming proactive deloads might be counterproductive, some even going so far as to say that pushing deloads on most casual gymgoers might be a complete waste of time. This new study has been making the rounds and adding fodder to the debate.

I think that there is much merit to the idea of autoregulated deloads, but is the real-world and scientific consensus really so settled on the matter? Should deloads always be autoregulated and reactive? And, is this solitary new study in question a big nail in the coffin on planned deloads? Well, as I dug into it, I began to find that things are by no means settled, and the latest research in favor of reactive deloads comes with a handful of pretty big disclaimers. Ultimately, whether or not to prescribe deloads proactively should be determined on a case-by-case basis, depending on the experience level, temperament, health, and short-term aims of the lifter in question. A semi-autoregulated approach is probably most suitable for most people.

Defining Deloads

“A deload” generally constitutes any reduction in one or more training variables, ranging from no training at all, to simply a small reduction in intensity or volume while keeping most other variables consistent. While most people are referring to the latter scenario lasting around 1 week, a “deload” can technically and realistically range anywhere from a day or two to several weeks (otherwise known as active recovery days or blocks). As you might already imagine, the consensus as to what “a deload” even is is very broad and largely depends on context and sport, which is not conducive to producing a lot of consistent research or opinions on the matter.

In powerlifting, the most basic and frequently seen mesocycle (or “block”) will last somewhere from 4 to 6 weeks, be linearly periodized, and culminate in a planned deload week. Typically, this week will look something like a 1-3 rep drop in volume with the previous week’s intensity (percent of 1 RM) maintained, or something close to it (so, a lower overall RPE).

But why do we do them?

Conceptually, the deload is rooted in the Fitness-Fatigue model: a model suggesting that performance at any given time is the difference between fitness and fatigue and that both always exist and are changing/decaying at the same time. However, they decay at different rates: fitness lasts much longer than fatigue, and this is well supported by the research. Some studies have demonstrated that you can potentially maintain or even improve 1 rep max strength with as little as 1 set a week. Coaches and athletes consider various forms of fatigue when thinking about deloads, including peripheral, muscular, and even general stress. Most of these forms of fatigue dissipate in a matter of days, at most, so long as overtraining is not a factor, and thus, our deload week can be used to recuperate quickly.

A Problematic Study

“A deload” is not something that appears often in the scientific literature. Most of the scientific assumptions made around deloading come from research on tapering. Granted, the goal of a deload is generally not to test maxes after the fact, as is often the case with a gradual taper (though, that can certainly be done). Instead, the goal is primarily to manage fatigue so that training can continue to progress steadily over time. Even if this comes at a short-term detriment to fitness and strength (which, as we understand, it doesn’t), the longer-term implications of avoiding this recovery period are potentially far more perilous, ranging from chronic overreach to injury. At least so far, most research has indicated that the rate of decay of fitness is so slow, that any impact brought on by a deload must be infinitesimally small. That is until this study emerged:

Menno Henselmans, a longtime proponent of reactive deloads, recently shared new research that purports that deloading may ultimately be counterproductive. In the study, two groups of people with strength training experience performed intensive 9-week strength training programs. One group took a deload week in the middle, and the other did not. The results demonstrated that the group which did not deload ultimately had achieved greater strength gains than the group that did, while hypertrophy ultimately appeared similar. These results ran counter to the established consensus: that small cessations (less than 2 weeks) of training have nearly no bearing on strength.

Case closed, then? Preemptive, traditional deloads are, at least, marginally counterproductive to growth, right? Well, not exactly. Unfortunately, the research is heavily caveated in ways I don’t think Menno draws attention to appropriately (many of these points are even highlighted by the authors):

• Most importantly, the “deload” in question was a complete cessation of training rather than a moderate reduction in volume or intensity.

  • As discussed, a deload can range between a complete cessation and a less significant reduction in training parameters. As such, this is not realistically reflective of most people’s deload protocol. In a survey of 18 experienced strength coach athletes, the most common approach to deloading involved a reduction in intensity and/or volume.

• Muscle hypertrophy was very similar between the groups.

  • This suggests that any differences in strength were largely adaptation-based, which could be especially true if the subjects’ training protocols were much different than what was prescribed in the study (which is most likely the case, considering the study examined movements like slow eccentric smith machine squats, and all participants said that they were training harder than usual). Presumably, there might have been a greater-than-normal ability to improve motor skills and technique during the study, such that even an extra week of training could have a significant impact.

• The limited period and population are not enough to draw sweeping conclusions.

  • 9 weeks is not necessarily ample time to amply accumulate the sort of fatigue that would require a deload. Yes, the athletes are allegedly “trained”, having self-reported as strength trained for 1 year or more (with the mean being roughly 3 years), but again, they may not be trained specifically in the rep ranges or exercises selected for the study, meaning that they are potentially adapting in other ways (i.e. technique) before they can seriously push themselves to the point of extreme fatigue.

Don’t get me wrong: Menno’s work is generally a boon to turn to. In this case, while I don’t think he approached this in bad faith, I do think his longtime unequivocal advocacy for reactive deloading means that his personal biases played a role in how he interpreted this research. Thus, I don’t think it’s fair to assume that the findings in this study are an outright repudiation of traditional programmed deloads.

What do I think of reactive deloads, though?

I am in favor of reactive deloads, but context matters. I am even largely in favor of them for most people, even though I think this study is fairly weak evidence in their favor. Even if a person is potentially a viable candidate for programmed deloads (which I outline how to determine below), reactive or semi-reactive deloading can still be a useful data collection tool for that aforementioned lifter.

Reactive, autoregulated deloads are wonderful when they ensure that lifters do not squander momentum on potential progress by taking a needless week of respite. Additionally, alternative strategies can be used to connect training periods without a traditional deload, such as the concept of introductory microcycles, courtesy of Dr. Mike Zourdos, which sets up a transition from strength to volume blocks via an intermediary week of volume training that ramps into the desired higher volume work to give the lifter time to acclimate.

However, there are still various reasons one might consider proactively incorporating deloads. Consider what is illustrated by the following hypothetical chart:

This model features the same lifter experiencing two alternate scenarios: a planned deload at week 4 of their training block and an autoregulated deload at week 5. In the autoregulated example, the lifter failed to recognize the signs of creeping fatigue and pushed week 4, anyways, and wound up overreaching. Alternatively, they were able to nip this fatigue in the bud when they committed to a planned deload at week 4. In the short term and one training cycle, this doesn’t present a major issue; in both scenarios, the lifter will likely be able to recover roughly equally as well. But if this becomes a pattern of behavior, the fatigue will start to pile up in the long term and affect their ability to move that top line. Even in the short term, training needlessly closer to failure has been shown to take more time to recover from. Additionally, the signs of fatigue which we can immediately recognize don’t necessarily paint the entire picture. For instance, consider tendinopathy and degenerative tendinosis (the slow destruction of tendons), which have a complex and not well-understood relationship between pain, function, and wear.

Granted, one might argue that 4 weeks or the end of a training period is an arbitrary way to determine a deload, especially if the lifter is not following a linearly periodized program. They might say that this makes it such that the problem highlighted around reactive deloads is not exclusive to reactive deloads, but could even manifest in a framework with pre-programmed deloads if, for instance, the lifter stays committed to deloading on week 4, even if they are gassed by week 3. I understand that, and I wholeheartedly agree; this example is not to be construed literally. There may be general rules of thumb that can guide people towards a regular deload cadence that makes sense in the context of their programming, but only through rigorous data collection can you start to determine what works best for you. Additionally, this entire hypothetical is mostly applicable to intermediate lifters and beyond, whose overall fitness is much more impacted by their fatigue, as their ability to progress is not as rapid and their assessment of fatigue is likely closer to their actual limits.

In simpler terms, one incident like the one highlighted above does not necessarily indicate a problem, but if you or your coach begin to notice a pattern of this behavior, you can reference all of your previous incidents to get a better understanding of when to preemptively deload. I would bet that, with enough historical data, most people can begin to make accurate predictions about how often they should deload, or at the very least, determine a rough timeframe (i.e., “Given the current conditions of my training and life, I will probably need to deload sometime between weeks 4-5”). Even if things don’t go according to plan thanks to the unpredictability of life’s rich tapestry, there is no shame in shifting the deload up; we don’t have to have dogmatic commitment one way or the other.

Below are some additional examples of potentially eligible candidates for planned deloads:

• lifters who are actively nursing an injury or discomfort that is demonstrably aggravated by accumulated fatigue;

• athletes who take the “go hard or go home” mentality to a place of detriment, or who are not always honest when they feel they might or have overreached;

• more fragile populations (older or disabled lifters);

• people regularly under a lot of stress outside of the gym;

• people in preparation for a competition (tapering).

Essentially, any scenario which demands an extra degree of wariness may also be one in which pre-programmed deloads could be useful. In these cases, the risk-reward analysis for pushing training cycles beyond a certain point doesn’t bear out on the side of autoregulating deloads.

So, should you plan deloads or play it by ear?

For the majority of people, especially beginner-to-intermediate lifters, you should either try your hand at autoregulating your deloads, or, at the very least, keep them relatively flexible to better learn your limits. You can use general guidance (i.e., 7-9 weeks for early trainees and 4-6 weeks for more advanced athletes) to potentially guide or cap the amount of time without a deload, but particularly in the earlier stages of your training lifetime, overreaching once or twice is not the end of the world, and can even be useful in teaching you to understand your limits. If you are certain you cannot trust yourself not to overreach too often, or you have other attenuating circumstances described above, then prescribing deloads is not out of the question, perhaps even intending to return to a more autoregulated approach in the long term.

Practical Takeaways

• Whether or not you employ proactive or reactive deloads doesn’t have to be a zero-sum binary. Elements of both strategies can be used. For instance, use a range of possible weeks to take a deload within or a maximum cap for the block that limits the likelihood of massive overreach.

• For certain populations and conditions, it may be better to err on the side of caution and sprinkle programmed deloads in regularly so as to prevent or not aggravate injuries.

• There is no “one-size-fits-all” approach to deloading. Assess how you feel honestly and see if introductory microcycles, regional deloading, and various tweaks towards volume and intensity can serve you.

Affiliate Disclosure: This article contains links to my sponsor’s website, Legion Athletics. I may earn money on products purchased through these links.

It’s one of those sweet white powders highly coveted the world over… well, at least the lifting world over. Creatine is among the golden trifecta of supplements, alongside whey and caffeine, well understood in today’s fitness zeitgeist to be one of the only supplements worth a damn with very little in the way of negative consequences. It is effectively the only supplement reliably demonstrated to have positive effects on strength, hypertrophy, and anaerobic activity, plus recovery more generally, legally and without androgenic or anabolic effects.

Suffice to say, there are no silver bullets in strength training and fitness. Some people do not really respond well to creatine, and for those that do, the benefits are relatively negligible compared to something like anabolic steroids and will not make up for a lack of sound training and nutrition in most populations.

In my case, seeing as my training, strength, and mass were improving steadily over the years without it, I never felt a strong impetus to take it. However, as I have steadily approached higher levels of strength and size, my rate of progress has slowed. Whereas cost was a bigger consideration for me in the primordial days of my fitness journey, no longer is it a real burden to add another little supplement into the budget (one of the cheaper ones, at that), and I was willing to at least try and eek out whatever I could considering there is nearly zero risk.

I will not mince words; in spite of my modest training age, I was surprised by the outcomes, for better and for worse. I would even go so far as to say that creatine consumption had a direct role in some pretty significant gains of around 15 kg/33 lbs per major compound movement. Overall, though, I stand by the general consensus: that its effects are incremental rather than transformational. I have not and will not take take it indefinitely, even though cycling is probably not necessary, for a number of reasons that I will cover below.

Humble Beginnings

Following a powerlifting meet in November of 2021, I was easing back into the swing of training early in 2022, and was beginning to think about ways to advance. Creatine had been on my radar for a long time, so in late January of 2022, I figured I would bite the bullet and give it a shot. I was getting a bit heavy for my liking, so I had also decided to enter a calorie deficit around the same time.

I had assumed that I would not really reap the full benefit if I started supplementation during a cut, but I understood well the physiological implications of creatine’s impact on ATP production could not hurt training, even if I couldn’t fully capitalize on it. More productive and energetic training sessions could only lead to positive outcomes, deficit or not.

Things actually wound up going even better than I expected, especially for my bench press. During the aforementioned prep for the meet in November, I had failed a 167.5 kg/369 lbs bench. Between January and March, I had made numerous leaps forward on my bench progress. After chasing 170 kg/375 lbs for years, I hit it and more, numerous times in the span of two months, turning it into a submaximal single and culminating in a PR of 177.5 kg/391 lbs that March. In just two months, I went from being a mid-300s bencher to knocking on the door of 400 lbs.

It was’t as though progress was limited entirely to bench, either. I continued to hit pretty significant rep PRs on squat and especially deadlift and their variants, including taking my 4 rep deadlift PR up about 15 kg, and hitting a 5 rep squat PR in roughly the same time period. My overall work capacity in the gym was much higher, especially as compared to previous training bouts in a calorie deficit. Both my ability to perform multiple sets, as well as my ability to sustain that intensity throughout the workout longer, seemed highly improved.

Granted, to chalk all of this progress up to creatine would be naive. All-around solid programming and coaching were obviously the cardinal factors here, and perhaps I was reaping some long-standing gains or hitting my ceiling by easing off the gas and clearing some meet prep fatigue. However, I cannot remember the last time when I had made so much continuous progress in such a short period of time, particularly while hovering at roughly the same weight the entire time.

Not All Sunshine and Rainbows

Wait… hovering around the same weight? Wasn’t I supposed to be in a small caloric deficit? Well, yes, and I was. And I believe I did drop a decent amount of fat. However, progress was much slower than I expected, definitely in part because of creatine consumption. Over the course of 4 weeks, I had only lost around 2 or 3 pounds when I expected to lose 8 to 10.

Water Weight Woes

Was it my ineptitude? Was I just eating more than I thought? Unlikely, as I have shed pounds with roughly the same protocol many times before with very little issue at all. The likely reality was that I was taking some time to saturate my muscles with creatine and, by extension, water, resulting in my cut’s progress being masked by the gradual water retention.

For some additional context, many perform what is called a “loading phase”, where they ingest something like 4 times the recommended daily intake of creatine over the course of a week or so in order to saturate their muscles with creatine as quickly as possible. I did not do that, meaning that my saturation period was likely several weeks long, and water retention was slow to build as a result, seeming to mask the results of my fat loss.

What cemented this notion in my mind was what I experienced when I cut weight for 2 meets later on in the year. I lost significantly more weight than I expected once I cut creatine. With very modest water and sodium manipulation (no sweating, smaller water and sodium loading phases), I somehow managed to lose ~2.7 kg/6 lbs once and over ~3.6 kg/8 lbs the second time. I still managed to feel and perform pretty much as well as always in the latter case, even in spite of never having competed under the conditions of a 2-hour weigh-in until that day and losing ~3.5% of my bodyweight fairly effortlessly. Historically, those are the sorts of numbers that I would attempt to pull off for 24-hour weigh-ins and struggle a bit to do so. While water manipulation experience was likely a variable, I can imagine that pulling creatine out about 1.5 weeks out also really primed me to shed a lot more water than I normally would’ve been able to.

Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Additionally, the honeymoon phase seems to have run its course. My bench has hardly improved over the last year since those initial bouts of progress, and even when my creatine intake becomes a bit shaky or inconsistent now, I don’t really notice a significant impact. Progress has been steady overall, but nothing earth-shattering. Again, the primary benefit (for me, anyway) seems to be its positive effect on work capacity. More sets of accessories at the same weight, stronger backdown sets, etc. These factors lead to positive outcomes and stack chips in the long term, but they are nothing transformational. As such, it’s hard to really chalk up how much of those initial spurts of progress were coincidental, and how much of that progress was a direct result of the supplementation.

A Psychological Dependency

Strength athletes and coaching circles have popularized the mantra, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Some have taken this to a needless extreme; when training is going relatively well, they will meticulously maintain every variable in its rightful place, even if they are doing something evidently detrimental or leaving progress on the table. I myself am not immune to this, and it made coming off of creatine psychologically difficult for fear that I would somehow hamstring my training. Suffice it to say, laziness and the pursuit of convenience eventually won the war, and for a time, I had taken an unplanned pause from creatine altogether. In spite of knowing better, I was originally a bit apprehensive and superstitious about cycling off of it, but of course, nothing really detrimental happened in the long term. At the very least, it wasn’t as though my progress was suddenly reversed, and progress continued at roughly the same rate.

No Side Effects…?

Creatine advocates will tell you that the supplement is largely side effect free. This is mostly supported by the literature, aside from some rare edge cases, like those with kidney disease, or people who experience gastrointestinal upset during loading phases.

However, in my anecdotal experience, I definitely feel something negative and acute, if brief, when I take creatine, and I speculate it is a result of creatine’s impact on water distribution in the body. That is not to say that creatine causes dehydration, but that it demands more water than you would otherwise require. I am a fairly large person by lean body mass, so my normal hydration demands are already quite high. I can comfortably drink about a gallon and a half a day, and still wake up modestly dehydrated. This problem has only been exacerbated since I began taking creatine, where now I require something like 20-30% more water than before. Especially if I do not consume a lot of water water immediately around the time of taking creatine, I can get a headache and dry mouth pretty much right after consumption, which tends to be in a dehydrated post-workout state.

Your mileage may very, and my assessment is purely anecdotal. Creatine headaches are not a well researched phenomenon, and most people do not report any side effects. In fact, early but promising evidence suggests that creatine may actually be beneficial for brain health in the long term, but my anecdote is still worth considering.

Concluding Thoughts and Recommendations

Creatine can be an effective tool in any lifter’s arsenal. It’s not a must-have, but it is ultimately one of the only available natural substances with a strong track record for its recovery, performance, and mass-adding efficacy. I am currently taking creatine now, but in periods where training is more casual and competitions are on a distant time horizon, or when I need to manipulate water more drastically, I am not opposed to dropping it from my regimen. Ultimately, don’t expect any silver bullets or steroid-tier progress, but it is a small brick you can stack on top of your training and nutritional pyramid for a bit of extra oomph.

Buy Legion Recharge

If you want to pick up some creatine, you should opt for the most researched variant, creatine monohydrate. I will shamelessly plug Legion’s own Recharge product, which contains the literature-based recommended daily dosage of 5 grams of creatine monohydrate per serving, as well other recovery-promoting compounds, like L-Carnitine L-Tartrate, sold by a company with a prudent and stringent sourcing process. That being said, whether you opt for my favorite brand or not, any way you can manage to get 5 grams of creatine monohydrate a day will suffice.

FULL DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical professional or physiotherapist, nor am I necessarily imparting upon you direct or actionable advice; I am speaking only from my personal experience. Take this as you will, but definitely see a medical professional if your injury is severe.

On November 7, I set foot on the platform once again. Whilst I came a tad short of expectations (don’t we always?), I managed to pull 700 pounds, which was my primary goal. 6 weeks earlier, I was nearly immobilized by a freak hamstring tear and could hardly walk.

It was business as usual: performing Romanian Deadlifts, nothing extraordinary in weight or exertion, when I felt a burst ripple down the back of my thigh. Afterwards, intense agony would strike, seemingly at random intervals, when I would take my leg through a full range of motion. In that moment, I was not sure if I would be able to put together a total in 6 weeks, but I was still determined. I’d been down this road before: during prep in 2020, I busted my hip, in what was perhaps a less acute but equally debilitating injury, very close to my meet (ironically) scheduled for November 7. I still managed to put up a PR total back then, as well.

Juggling the psychological and physical stress of meet prep can be a tall order in and of itself. Piling an injury on top of the stack just blows all of those feelings up several magnitudes. While I certainly chalk up some of my timely recoverability to luck, I have also refined my approach to rehab training over the years. In conjunction with working with a coach and perhaps a physical therapist, here are some of the ways I have strategized my approach to rehab, especially when time is of the essence.

Doing Nothing Won’t Help - Make Adjustments Instead

In 2016, I tweaked my lower back performing a standing overhead press. While I wasn’t crippled, the main variations of all big-3 movements felt pretty horrible. Between that and a flurry of other attenuating circumstances, I took it upon myself to sulk for 8 weeks and then ramp training back up over the course of 4 subsequent weeks. I spent a total of 12 weeks recovering from an injury that was relatively minor.

Hindsight is 20/20, and when it came to injuries in subsequent years, I readjusted my strategy. In most instances, rather than completely eliminate an exercise or training all together, I would try to accommodate my injury to the best of my ability. Here are a variety of potential strategies to pursue:

• Taking current movements to a shorter, painless ROM and progressively increasing towards full ROM over time;

• Introducing variations of the big 3 that don’t aggravate your injury (i.e., switching to a squat variation that demands less knee extension if your knee hurts);

• Experiment with isometric, tempo, or pause variations;

• Warm-up more conservatively, taking small jumps in weight;

• Try and uncover whether low volume, high intensity or the converse is more aggravating, and lean into that modality.

The aim should be to progressively inch towards normalcy on a regular basis (weekly in my own circumstances) when possible. Depending on your timetable, you may have to experiment with quite large jumps. For instance, I went from squatting in the mid-3’s to the high-4’s in a matter of days. That being said, the overall framework will be highly contextual and individualized. It wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion from a coach or physiotherapist who can help you craft a well-considered active rehab regimen, rather than take the doctor’s advice at face value and stagnate in bed for 6-12 weeks.

Maximize Recovery Outside of Training and Rehab

Although I continued training to the best of my ability within the evolving constraints of my injury, I recognized that the effort spent outside of training was equally as important. This meant sleeping a regular, adequate schedule, lowering unnecessary high-impact activity, ensuring that nutrition was on point, and keeping calories at least at maintenance level were of the utmost importance. It is safe to presume that a calorie deficit, poor sleep, and poor overall nutrition will negatively impact the course of rehab in much the same way it impacts general recovery in the gym.

Clearing Misconceptions About Injury Prevalence

Depending on who you ask, injury prevalence in powerlifting is either extremely low (usually based on data), or extremely high (generally based on anecdote). Most studies, such as this one, classify an “injury” as a total impediment to lifting or competition. The aforementioned study estimates 1-4.4 injuries per 1000 hours of powerlifting, which tracks with what I have seen elsewhere and is actually quite low compared to other sports. Take, for instance, this systematic review analyzing non-American football (soccer) players: the overall injury rate was around 8.1 per 1000 hours; quite high for what is largely a non-contact sport. However, when you adjust the criteria a bit to include injuries which don’t necessarily impede training, injury prevalence in powerlifting is much higher. This survey of 104 Swedish sub-elite powerlifters found that 70% of participants self-assessed as currently injured, while 87% claimed to have experienced an injury within the last 12 months. 16% of the injured group had completely refrained from training.

In other words, much like my own experiences, you may seem to experience frequent or nagging “injuries”, so to speak, at a frequency that doesn’t necessarily align with the data in the first study or several others. While this may be indicative of a greater problem with your training, health, or nutrition, including and especially load management, there is also a strong possibility that you are not far beyond the norm. Smaller yet inconvenient injuries may be an inescapable facet of training for just about any athletic endeavor, but they don’t have to be the end of the world. Taking small strides, working with a coach to manage load or analyze your movement patterns to reduce the likelihood of these nagging injuries, while also improving your recovery patterns (sleep, nutrition, etc.) outside of the gym are your best bet in this regard.

Don’t Be Consumed by It — Be Patient

It can be tempting to become consumed by feelings of angst, imposter syndrome, and hopelessness. After dreaming up the perfect prep, the impeccable game plan, for weeks on end, it can feel especially devastating to have your whole plan derailed by the hands of fate. It’s important to recognize that it’s not your fault, stay focused on the task at hand, and leave all options on the table. Depression and psychological feelings are demonstrably and scientifically shown to reduce or impair odds of injury recovery. Even if you’ve lost this battle, you haven’t lost the war; things will get better, and you will have another shot to chase your goals.

Most importantly, recognize that it usually doesn’t need to be a zero-sum equation, particularly in powerlifting. I wasn’t willing to rule out any options until the very last moment. At some points, I even considered switching to bench only, push-pull, or putting it off to another meet down the line. Luckily, my fortunes began to shift as the meet approached. By 3 weeks out, I knew, when I was able to pull my meet PR with relative ease and low pain, that I was going to be able to put something together. Yet still, if I had to make some concessions in the short term to keep moving towards the long term aim, I’d have been willing to do so. If I had sulked and bemoaned my woes in hopelessness instead, I might not’ve recognized that the opportunity to compete was still there, and might’ve instead missed out on a memorable day and a meet PR.

As anticipated, the USAPL-IPF split has been cemented into reality. On the 8th of November, the International Powerlifting Federation (IPF) held a vote on the expulsion of USA Powerlifting (USAPL), and 23 of 27 nations present (out of over 150 total member nations) unanimously voted in favor of expulsion (the remaining 4 abstained from voting).

As outlined previously, the schism comes as a consequence of an ideological divergence between the IPF and USAPL. Ultimately, the federations could not come to an agreement on a fundamental ethical dilemma: do you prioritize signatory status with World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) and incur more expensive, less frequent, and therefore, arguably less effective drug tests; or do you abandon your relationship with WADA and the International Olympic Committee (IOC) for the sake of sustaining your drug-free ethos?

USAPL proposed several compromises to no avail. For instance, they proposed an “Olympic model” of testing, where only those lifters who qualify for IPF-level events are subject to WADA testing, similarly to how organizations like the NBA send players to the Olympics. But their pleas fell upon deaf ears. The IPF, in what appeared to be a blatant exercise of unchecked power, would not hear it, and instead scrambled to stage a hasty vote to expel USAPL after years of bubbling conflict. As a result, USAPL has announced its plans to take its new Pro Series to the world stage, bringing the most powerful incentive of all: big cash prizes. The IPF’s callous zeal for the Olympics at the expense of a level playing field may prove to be its downfall in the face of an emboldened and international USAPL.

Drug Testing in the IPF Is Abysmal

As alluded to in the previous article, drug testing in the IPF happens to be abysmal. But I think it helps to demonstrate how bad it is with statistics. Thankfully, Jonnie Candito has done a lot of work to collect the hard data. I certainly recommend you check out his latest video on the story after you finish reading this.

In 2019, USAPL tested about 18.9% of all lifters. If you only include WADA-compliant tests, USAPL’s rate is about 4.4%, which, while low, still surpasses many top nations’ overall testing rate. 3.1% of lifters experienced out-of-meet testing, all of which were WADA-compliant. Candito makes a strong comparison to Canada, which is geographically and culturally similar to the United States, yet tests at a rate of under 5%, only performing out-of-meet tests for 1.8% of lifters.

45% of all member nations in the IPF appeared to perform 0 testing according to the data.

Here is a testing rate comparison between the top 5 nations by IPF points in 2019:

According to USAPL, it would cost an extra $2 million per year to continue testing at the same rate under WADA-compliant standards, which appears to be supported by an invoice for an IPF test included in Candito’s video, highlighting the exorbitant and perhaps even questionable costs of testing and personnel:

Even if you don’t buy USAPL’s sentiment that it needs to test this much to preserve the integrity of the sport, it does not change that fact that there can be no level playing field at the international level when many countries perform little to no testing. Often times, these countries are top performers in the sport, have plenty of money, or have incredibly high rates of positivity among their tiny pools of tested athletes. Iran, for instance, had a 100% positivity rate for all 3 lifters that were tested in 2019. In such a scenario, drug-free lifters will likely choose to align with a federation which more strongly supports their personal desire to compete in a more level playing field.

A Post-Pandemic Shake-Up

When you take a look at the participation data in powerlifting, the popularity of the sport has significantly contracted during 2020 through to 2021, no doubt as a consequence of the pandemic and the lockdowns that have ensued as a result. Take a look at the data:

Whilst the data collected for 2021 is technically incomplete seeing as there are still a couple of months to go, it is interesting to note that IPF participation continues to decline or perhaps flatline when all is said and done, while USAPL has begun to rebound. It’s possible to chalk this up to several variables, including stricter lockdowns in some member nations as compared to the US, but it is still worth noting.

Regardless, participation is still far below peak levels from prior years. As powerlifting participation continues to rebound in tandem with the world reopening, crisis and contraction give way to opportunity. With a fledging global organization that is offering competitive cash prizes and a more level playing field, there has never been a better time for USAPL to eat into the IPF’s market share and entice other nations’ lifters to abandon the old federation. Not to mention, USAPL’s divergence from the IPF is guaranteed to, at least, eat into the participation of US athletes in the IPF’s new member federation. The US represents a huge chunk of the competitors at international-level IPF events, as evidenced by these 10 countries who sent the most number of lifters to IPF Worlds in 2019:

No matter how you slice it, an already-anemic IPF will certainly suffer under this new global powerlifting order when a good chunk of their largest pool of lifters is likely to strand them.

The Olympic Dream Is a Delusion

At the crux of the IPF’s decision to appease WADA and remain a signatory is the notion that they can one day become a governing body for powerlifting as an Olympic sport. Many have balked at this pipe dream, and for good reason. Considering most of the newer sports coming to the Olympics are softer sports, and the current sport of Olympic Weightlifting is on the chopping block for rampant drug use, it’s not likely that the IOC will accept a new strength sport into the mix. The IOC has recently reduced the size of Olympic Weightlifting to incur greater accountability for drug usage. Between the 2008 and 2012 Olympics, 61 lifters were busted via retrospective testing out of 515 total competitors. The idea that the IOC would be open to including a sport with perhaps even more rampant drug usage when their current strength sport rendition is crumbling is absurd. Laying waste to the ideals of the sport in the name of appeasing the monopolistic governing body of the Olympics, all of that to say it would be in vain, is not a great hill for the IPF to die on.

USAPL has a legitimate opportunity here to offer a compelling alternative to the IPF. At the very least, the schism will split or shrink the IPF’s largest member nation and therefore weaken their control over the sport. Their hubris is blinding them from an immediately evident risk of fading into obscurity; rather than derisively rushing to expedite USAPL’s exit, they’d have been wise to hear out a compromise on the matter. Now, they may have spurred their own demise. Only time will tell, but with the recent endorsement of USAPL by many top American lifters, it’s already not looking so good for the IPF.

This past weekend, Kansas City played host to what the organizers were calling the biggest untested-raw-sleeved powerlifting meet of the year: The Bucked Up Showdown. Nine world records and a host of monumental performances later, I’d say that characterization was accurate. While some notable names were absent, a gauntlet of many top lifters competed across last weekend, with men competing on Saturday, the 26th, and women on Sunday, the 27th.  Among the highlights were not only the myriad of world records that were broken but also the battles that took place, as well as some triumphant returns to the platform that were a long time in the making.

The Highlights and Battles

John Haack

John Haack (@bilbo_swaggins181) became the lightest person to total over 1000 kg, with 1005.5 kg at 89.5 kg bodyweight, while also securing the bench (263 kg), deadlift (402.5 kg), and total ATWR in his 90 kg weight class. His total would also be above the bench and total record for the 100 kg weight class and the total record for the 110 kg weight class, a number which he was able to cement even while sustaining two strained quads during his third attempt squat.

Joe Sullivan vs Jordan Wong

Joe Sullivan (@joesullivan_aod) and Jordan Wong (@wongstwong) managed to stage an incredible battle for the 100 kg ATWR squat.  Coming into the meet, Joe Sullivan was defending his existing record at 373 kg, but Jordan Wong forced Joe into a corner and put up an impressive 375 kg squat on his third attempt. Joe Sullivan just managed to put up 380 kg on his third.  Jordan attempted to chip Joe’s new record with a 4th attempt at 380.5 kg, but it was to no avail, as he could not stand up with it.  Credit to both these men for putting on an incredible show.

Thomas Davis

Thomas Davis (@tdsmash) managed to fight through some adversity on his second bench to claim the ATWR raw bench ever performed in a full power meet at 352 kg.

Jamal Browner vs Dan Grigsby

Jamal Browner (@jamalb15) and Dan Grigsby (@dan_grigs) both attempted an ATWR deadlift of 455 kg (or over 1000 lbs). Both titans came close but didn’t have it on the day.

Kristy Hawkins

Kristy Hawkins (@kristy_hawkins) put up an ATWR deadlift and total at 75 kg, holding onto an astounding 275 kg 3rd attempt deadlift, despite tearing her bicep on the way up.

Tamara Walcott

Tamara Walcott (@plussize_fitqueen4.0) pulled a ridiculous ATWR deadlift in the open weight class: the heaviest raw deadlift ever pulled by a woman at 288.5 kg.

Carina Davis

Carina Davis (@quadzilla619) benched 180 kg in the open weight class.

Ashley Contorno

Ashley Contorno (@veggie_lifter) attempted an ATWR bench in the 75 kg weight class.

Brianny Terry

Brianny Terry (@briannyt) finally broke into the 600 lbs deadlift club with an impressive 272.5 kg pull at just over 75 kg bodyweight.

Whitney Baxley

Whitney Baxley (@iamwhitbaxley) (who we highlighted here) attempted to break her own 60 kg ATWR deadlift of 235 kg and came incredibly close.

Kiersten Scurlock

Kiersten Scurlock (@scurko_savage) squatted an incredible 262.5 kg in the open weight class.

The Returns to the Platform

Although this may have not been the very first meet back for all of these athletes, their presence on the platform at a major event after recovering from serious setbacks is notable:

Andy Huang

Andy Huang (@that_hugeasian_guy) came back from a groin injury to total 985 kg in the 125 kg weight class. We look forward to seeing him get back over 1000 kg in the near future.

Suzan Salazar

Suzan Salazar (@supers2o) returned from a severe knee injury sustained at the LA Fit Expo in 2018 to win the 60 kg division at the age of 45. It was a true honor to share the platform with her this weekend.

Dawson Windham

Dawson Windham (@dawsonwindham) bounced back from a torn meniscus and surgery to hit a 37.5 kg PR on squats and obliterate the 500 DOTS barrier with a 531.91 DOTS.

Barbara Lee

Barbara Lee (@msbarbellbarbie) came back from a torn ACL, meniscus, and surgery on both with a huge 182.5 kg squat in the 67.5 kg class.  Her name belongs in the dictionary under the word “determination”.

The Final Standings

Men

John Haack – 1005.5 kg at 89.5 kg bodyweight (651.99 DOTS)

Chad Penson (@kingpensonlifts) – 925 kg at 90 kg bodyweight (598.11 DOTS)

Jamal Browner – 1000 kg at 107.8 kg bodyweight (596.86 DOTS)

Zac Meyers (@thehulkmeyers) – 1035 kg at 124.3 kg bodyweight (587.64 DOTS)

Blake Lehew (@blake_75kg) – 860 kg at 82.5 kg bodyweight (583.76 DOTS)

Women

Kristy Hawkins  – 685 kg at 74 kg bodyweight (671.95 DOTS)

Brianny Terry – 620 kg at 75.8 kg bodyweight (600.51 DOTS)

Ashley Contorno – 605 kg at 74.5 kg bodyweight (590.93 DOTS)

Kiersten Scurlock – 677.5 kg at 105.5 kg bodyweight (566.66 DOTS)

Terri Ashley (@terriboo621) – 595 kg at 79.5 kg bodyweight (562.40 DOTS)

Up-and-Comers is a weekly series where I highlight impressive lifts performed by underrated yet talented and hard-working powerlifters who are on their way to making waves in the sport.

Kai Zhao - 360 kg/793 lbs Deadlift

OpenPowerlifting

Warcat Strength Gym in Northern California seems to produce a number of monstrous lifters, and Kai is no exception to that rule. Deadlifting nearly 800 pounds this smoothly is an incredible feat at any weight class, but especially at 93 kg. There is no doubt in my mind that he will be a force to be reckoned with, likely even to displace the current USAPL deadlift record in his class in due time.

Jenn Rotsinger - 162.5 kg Squat (442.5 kg total)

OpenPowerlifting

Among the phenomenal group of lifters competing at The Showdown was Jenn Rotsinger, who managed to put up a mean 162 kg squat at under 52 kg bodyweight. This is the second highest raw squat in her class ever, second only to her own previous best. In the caption, she described her performance as “not too bad”; if that’s the case, I can only imagine what a better day might look like down the road.

Kevin Kaufman - 325 kg Squat

At only 20 years old, Kevin is seen here hitting a monstrous 700+ pound squat, unscheduled and unpeaked. As far as I can find, Kevin has yet to hit the platform, but regardless of whichever weight class he ultimately lands on, he’s bound to make a splash debuting with a squat like that as a junior.

Know someone you feel deserves to be in this series? Maybe even yourself? Leave a comment or message me on Instagram! I’ll be publishing this series weekly on Tuesdays.

Up-and-Comers is a weekly series where I highlight impressive lifts from the last week, performed by lesser-known but talented and hard-working powerlifters who are on their way to making waves in the sport.

Trever Bowlus - 307.5 kg/678 lbs Squat (772.5 kg total)

OpenPowerlifting

At only around 182 pounds bodyweight and just a few meets under his belt, Trevor has managed to put up a mean 772.5 kg total. What’s most impressive to me is his ridiculous squat, putting him near the top 10 83 kg squats ever. The 83 kg class continues to get wilder, and Trevor stands as a strong testament to that.

Julia Williams - 100 kg/221 lbs x 8 Bench

OpenPowerlifting

Julia is seen here smashing her best bench from a meet in training for a set of 8. In just a few days, Julia will be competing at The Showdown in the 60kg class alongside some of the strongest names in powerlifting. I look forward to seeing her potentially break the 500 DOTS barrier this weekend.

Jessica Kinney - 500 kg total

OpenPowerlifting

At only 21 years old and 167 pounds bodyweight, she’s managed to put up an absolutely astonishing total, solidifying her ranking as one of the top juniors in her class with years left to further solidify her standing. Competitors in the 76 kg class would be wise to watch their backs!

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Recently, I encountered an interesting take from USAPL competitor David Woolson. In a short YouTube video, contrary to popular dogma from the likes of Squat University and others, he suggests that averting overshooting as some kind of unholy fear is counterproductive, and that some lifters could be encouraged to push the gas a little more in some instances, even if it comes at the risk of overshooting.

Admittedly, early on in my own training (perhaps when the consequences and risks were not as severe), I’d often let my ego get the better of me and tend to overshoot quite too often, particularly when it was least responsible (i.e., deep in a cut, on poor sleep, or just generally fatigued). By no means would I advise you to train every set or even every top set to absolute failure, not even close. We know now from mountains of evidence, both through many successful coaches and programs and under the observation of science, that training with submaximal loads as opposed to max weight is more effective in the long-term. However, you can still be calculative, methodical, and relatively conservative about your training while upping the ante on occasion, even if that means the rare overshooting event. Here are some of my own strategies and philosophies about ways to push the envelope while still adhering to a cogent training plan.

Start Your Training Block Conservatively, End Strong

Assuming you’re adhering to some form of periodization that ramps up in intensity over time (i.e., linear or block), you should open your period conservatively so as to give yourself room to escalate. In this sense, it’d not be unwise to undershoot your initial numbers. Depending on your periodization (linear integrated with undulating, for instance), you may have to adjust this strategy to your unique context, but the principle still applies.

Personally, I find that I often become just slightly deacclimatized to training over the course of a deload. This might be placebo, but psychology is still an important variable in training performance. Additionally, if my coach begins to reintroduce a movement or variation I haven’t visited in a while (or even ever), it can take a bit of time to find my groove again. Thus, opening the block conservatively allows me to build confidence before making bigger jumps over the course of the block.

Complementarily to the first point, ending the block a bit stronger than prescribed with the momentum you’ve built (assuming some form of block/linear periodization) is positive in my book. Pushing the envelope slightly is good, even if that comes at the risk of an overshot, as generally, a deload will be right around the corner. If we ascribe ourselves to the arbitrary numbers and metrics in our head forever, we leave no room or opportunity for improvement. The guiding principle of strength training is called progressive overload for a reason.

Granted, context and nuance matters here; it may not be plausible for you depending on the conditions of your training, your current nutrition, and other variables impacting recovery, but assuming that the circumstances are relatively beneficent and you aren’t in the midst of a stress-inducing period (weight loss, high fatigue, etc.), you should generally be striving to end each block stronger.

Use RPE, RIR, and Other Auto-regulation Techniques Correctly

That being said, regardless of the context, we need tools to help gauge our sense of performance on any given day. While extrapolating hard percentage numbers calculated from past training can be useful for guiding general programming, your general state of being is bound to fluctuate, even on a daily basis. That’s where auto-regulatory tools like RPE, RIR, or even bar velocity come into play.

Unfortunately, to their own detriment, some people will become attached to extrapolations even when leveraging an RPE system (i.e., “If I pulled x for 6 @ 8 in March, I should be able to pull x for 6 @ 7 today”). Rather than fixate on some calculated arbitrary number in your head, it’s better to give yourself some wiggle room on that usual/best-case-scenario number when you come into training based on how you are feeling. If you’re feeling groggy or fatigued, or warm-ups aren’t feeling solid, it may be wise to down-regulate; contrary to that, however, is that you may be wise to make a judgement call and bump the weight up a bit when things are going well, rather than dogmatically exercise restraint at every corner.

Auto-regulation has been demonstrated to be generally more effective at producing results than fixed, percentage-based training in the long-term. So, if your programming is based around some regulatory metric, use it appropriately. It takes practice and time to become proficiently accurate at self-regulation, but you need to be willing to practice some level of autonomy as a lifter to hone your judgement, even if you make mistakes along the way. While consistently over-targeting prescribed RPE has become a hot topic in powerlifting meme culture (I’m sure you’ve seen “RPE 8 with a misgroove” before), under-targeting thanks to conversely hesitant lines of thinking is arguably just as bad or worse, as you artificially inhibit your opportunities to take advantage of good training days.

Don’t Sweat It So Much

Honestly, the notion that overshooting will completely derail your training is overblown. Particularly, on high-rep volume work, you can simply disengage the set early if you feel you’ve begun to encroach on the prescribed RPE and adjust the secondary back-off work and volume accordingly. Even overshot singles are not the end of the world; as long as the quality of the rest of the session is solid, it’s not as though the whole session was in vain; it’s the volume and practice that comes after the top set(s) that most contribute to long-term gains.

These rules hold doubly true for novice lifters. Beginners have so much room to grow, both in their motor adaptability and their musculature, that training sessions can be extremely variable; it is not uncommon for newer lifters to add huge sums to their lifts in a matter of weeks. Because they aren’t as well-trained, a “maximal” or “overshot” set will have significantly less impact on recovery.

That being said, even in well-trained individuals, the impact on recovery is a tad overblown. In one study (some data above) with trained participants, researchers tested multiple 8-rep-max sets to failure on bench press and incline bench press and gauged recovery 24, 48, and 72 hours later. The researchers found insignificant differences in load in the 48 and 72 hour recovery period, while there was some performance drop-off when sessions were only 24 hours apart. In other words, the subjects were mostly well-recovered after just 2 days. By no means am I insinuating that this is sustainable, guaranteed, or reproducible across circumstances, nor am I encouraging this as a model you should adhere to on a regular basis. It doesn’t necessarily inform us about potentially more taxing movements like the squat and deadlift or what would happen if you followed this training style for more than a short period, but it demonstrates that the infrequent overshot will likely not absolutely demolish your training momentum.

At the end of the day, while it’s wise to exercise restraint in the long-term, there will be times and opportunities in your training to take it up a notch. If those moments don’t go exactly as planned, I’m of the opinion that, so long as it’s not a consistent, frequent occurrence, you were better off going for the extra mile than tepidly standing still. If you have additional thoughts or strategies, I’d love to hear them; leave a comment or reply via your inbox if you have anything you’d like to add!

Up-and-Comers is a weekly series where I highlight impressive lifts from the last week, performed by lesser-known but talented and hard-working powerlifters who are on their way to making waves in the sport.

Whitney Baxley - 180 kg/397 lbs x 1

OpenPowerlifting

Totaling nearly 500 kg/1100 lbs at her last meet, Whitney stands as one of the top 5 strongest raw female 60 kg competitors of all time, with a DOTS/Wilks score in the 550’s. With this nearly 400 lb. squat to cap off her successful meet prep, we should all keep our eyes peeled to see her break the 500 total barrier in a little under 2 weeks at The Showdown.

David Pardy - 308 kg/677 lbs x 3

Open Powerlifting

David is a force to be reckoned with in the 110 kg class. As a junior, he managed to total over 800 kg and is knocking on the door of a 500 DOTS. Having just recently turned 24, I’m sure we’ll see many more years of his rapid progression towards the top of his class in the open category, doing so in style with his classic strongman ‘stache.

Sergio Maglione - 250 kg/551 lbs x 1

Open Powerlifting

At only 19 years old with a few years of meets under his belt, Sergio is just getting started. At around 90 kg, he’s managed to put up over 600 pounds on squat in a meet, but judging by the speed of this single, he’s set to smoke that number in no time. Look out for a big total from this junior lifter over the coming months and years.

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Competitors and enthusiasts the world over have felt the rumblings of a conflict brewing between two of the most well-recognized and legitimatized powerlifting federations since the dawn of the sport: the International Powerlifting Federation (IPF) and USA Powerlifting (USAPL). The uncertainty of the last couple of years, marked by the pandemic and all of the global restrictions and despair that come with it, has been thickened for American powerlifting athletes by a dispute between the parent and child federations, facilitated via passive-aggressive social media posts and vague press releases.

Most recently, it has transpired in a year-long ban by the IPF of all USAPL lifters. While many athletes have been able to circumvent the ban by competing under US Virgin Islands Powerlifting Federation at the upcoming IPF World Championships, all top-tier US athletes are left wounded in the crossfires of this battle, uncertain about what the future holds. The USAPL has distilled the conflict down into a single blanket statement: that the IPF is banning the USAPL because of “too much testing”. This distillation has inspired much controversy and bike-shed arguments in the powerlifting community, but at its core, it’s the truth, even if the USAPL’s non-compliance might jeopardize the IPF’s standing as a World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) signatory. Rather than enable the USAPL to test as they will at the local level, the IPF would rather see the USAPL reduce overall testing or perform no testing, particularly at the local level where testing is not compliant to the WADA Code, an ordinance put forth by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to guide drug testing in sports. To be clear, the USAPL does adhere to WADA’s Code at national or high-level events and for out-of-meet-testing, but cited a massive increase in costs (third party testing, WADA-approved labs, etc.) associated with implementing the WADA testing across the board necessary to retain the IPF’s status as a WADA signatory.

This moment of time is another chapter in the history of powerlifting’s lifelong struggle to attain legitimacy on the world stage. It’s a moment inextricably linked to the history of the sport itself, the IOC’s power over organized drug-free competition, and the monopolization of drug testing in sport’s, hindering the drug testing movement’s ability to level the playing field and turning it into a political issue.

The History of the IPF Is the History of Modern Powerlifting

To understand how we’ve arrived at this inflection point and for historical reference, we need to understand the history of international powerlifting as a sport, and how anti-doping came to prominence. Powerlifting’s young history and the IPF’s own history are inextricably linked, but the history of drug-free powerlifting starts most prominently with the birth of the USAPL.

Alongside the emergence of Olympic Weightlifting in the 1900, strongmen and athletes turned towards unsanctioned, unstandardized competitions in what were then known as “odd lifts”, often not so unfamiliar compared to many presses and pulls performed today. By the 1940’s, athletes like Bob Peoples, who deadlifted over 700 pounds at 181 body weight, represented a growing thirst for demonstrations in raw strength, and the 50’s saw a decline in interest for Olympic Weightlifting.

Bob Hoffman, the founder of York Barbell, which at the time was perhaps the most prominent lifting equipment producer, was a proponent of Olympic Weightlifting and initially held disdain for “odd lifts”. However, in short time, he recognized the sea change happening in the industry as people flocked towards bodybuilding and strength movements. In 1964, he organized a Powerlifting Tournament. The next year, the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), which was essentially the governing body of all Olympic sports in the US, endorsed an event which selected squat, bench, and deadlift as the main events.

By the late 60’s and early 70’s, cross-national meets were held between French, British, and American athletes. In 1972, following the hosting of a world-level event in Los Angeles, the IPF was immediately established. The AAU would remain the governing body of powerlifting in the United States, until the Amateur Sports Act of 1978 would deplatform them from governance and require unique governing bodies per sport. This would give rise to the United States Powerlifting Federation (USPF).

The early days of powerlifting were marked by a period of experimentation with chemicals, materials, suits, and equipment to try and eke out the most ridiculous numbers feasible. Technologies introduced by early players like Inzer and their ilk, such as the bench shirt and wraps, were just half of the story around performance enhancement; athletes were simultaneously experimenting with drugs. At the same time, the anti-doping movement had just begun picking up steam in tandem with the rise of modern powerlifting, as anabolic steroids were first banned in the Olympics in 1975.

Conflict over drug usage in the sport compelled some people to form splinter federations away from the USPF, including the American Drug Free Powerlifting Association (ADFPA), formed in 1981. A year later, the IPF decided to implement drug testing; thanks to their non-conformity to the IPF’s new stance on doping, the IPF and USPF went their separate paths, and the ADFPA became the new regional federation for the IPF in the states, eventually renaming itself to the USAPL. Eventually, rooted in the same desire to benchmark unaided strength and widen the sport’s appeal, unequipped (“raw”) divisions began to take form in the early 2000’s and surged in popularity until, eventually, it became the predominant and de facto form of powerlifting after being adopted by the USAPL and IPF in 2008 and 2012, respectively.

Evidently, the IPF is no stranger disbanding from their regional subsidiaries when the tides demand it, even in the States, where the member federations wield more power thanks to powerlifting’s popularity here. More than likely, even many of the most hardcore powerlifting aficionados pay no mind to the USPF anymore. So it begs the question; why is the USAPL going to bat over this at the risk of succumbing to irrelevancy? It’s quite simple: the conflict of the early 80’s had to do with the overall direction of the sport and sports in general towards drug-free and eventually raw competition; this modern conflict is over the political aims of the IPF. This hasn’t been a months-long tussle, but a drawn-out, years-long ideological battle over the IPF’s legitimacy on the world stage that has recently begun snowballing out of control.

As far back as 2018, the IPF invalidated 171 doping suspensions whose samples were collected via non-WADA compliant measures and began demanding restructuring of the USAPL’s doping program. It was the first year the IPF had achieved Tier One recognition from WADA, bringing them one step closer to achieving official recognition from the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and further cementing Powerlifting and the IPF’s legitimacy. The IPF did not feel it prudent to allow the USAPL to operate and administer drug tests autonomously, as any member federation diverting from the IPF’s allegiance to the WADA Code stood as a threat to their Tier One badge. WADA’s own comment on the matter was additionally perplexing, namely that they had no jurisdiction over national entities.

The USAPL’s qualms with the IPF have amounted to some core tenets, including:

• the IPF’s opaque drug testing program (non-disclosure of testing methodologies, schedule, or results, which are not a stipulation of the WADA Code);

• the reduction in overall drug testing facilitated by the cost associated with 100% WADA-compliant testing (third party);

• lack of requirement for member nations to test, resulting in an uneven playing field.

In 2020, the USAPL administered about 204 out-of-meet-tests, all of which were WADA-compliant, and about 236 WADA-compliant tests in total, out of 1249 total tests and a little over 5000 total competing lifters. It’s difficult to compare against the IPF’s testing practices, because there is virtually nowhere to find publicly available IPF testing data. However, in 2018, the USAPL had a registered testing pool of about 400 versus the IPF’s 29 out of their ~2000 regular international competitors. The IPF themselves have even admitted to cutting testing frequency in the interest of cost cutting.

Because the IPF is requiring member nations to test using only WADA-compliant practices and labs, the USAPL’s argument boils down to the notion that it’ll inevitably become too expensive to test at the same frequency and level that they do now with in-house testing practices. The IPF’s response to this is that they must enforce WADA compliance amongst all member nations if they are to continue to pursue/retain IOC recognition, International World Games Association (IWGA) membership, International University Sports Federation (FISU) membership, and many other multinational groups the IPF deems vital to bolstering the legitimacy and reach of powerlifting. Evidence of enforcement of the USAPL’s adherence to the Code can be found in article 20.3.2 of the WADA Code, apparently recently updated for 2021:

20.3.2  To require, as a condition of membership, that the policies, rules and programs of their National Federations and other members are in compliance with the Code and the International Standards, and to take appropriate action to enforce such compliance; areas of compliance shall include but not be limited to: (i) requiring that their National Federations conduct Testing only under the documented authority of their International Federation and use their National Anti-Doping Organization or other Sample collection authority to collect Samples in compliance with the International Standard for Testing and Investigations; (ii) requiring that their National Federations recognize the authority of the National Anti-Doping Organization in their country in accordance with Article 5.2.1 and assist as appropriate with the National Anti-Doping Organization’s implementation of the national Testing program for their sport; (iii) requiring that their National Federations analyze all Samples collected using a WADA-accredited or WADA-approved laboratory in accordance with Article 6.1; and (iv) requiring that any national level anti-doping rule violation cases discovered by their National Federations are adjudicated by an Operationally Independent hearing panel in accordance with Article 8.1 and the International Standard for Results Management.

WADA and the IOC Have Too Much Power

In this debacle, there is no quantifiably “right” position. The IPF’s aim has been and always will be bolstering and legitimizing powerlifting on the world stage. The USAPL’s aim since its inception has been to level the playing field and provide the premier drug-free powerlifting experience. The IPF is willing to enforce WADA compliance at the expense of drug testing frequency. If the IPF’s prerogative is incompatible with the USAPL’s motives and vice versa, they may be compelled to go their separate ways.

It makes less sense the more you think on it. Why does aligning with an organization and a code supposedly dedicated to drug-free sport make drug testing more difficult, more costly, and less effective as a result? Why is WADA/the IOC a monopolistic gatekeeper in this equation? Why does it have to be this way?

In essence, it is because of the ineffectiveness, corruption, and power that WADA and the IOC yield over sport. What may appear to be an international body and standard to ensure fair competition across sports, nations, and entities has become a powerful, corrupt gatekeeper.

WADA’s history since its inception in 1999 is marked by a series of corrupt misdeeds and outright failures. Its overall inefficacy would be laughable if it weren’t so sad. In 2017, a WADA-commissioned survey found that 57% of elite competitors admitted to PED usage, compared to a test positivity rate under 4%. As detailed in the 2016 McClaren report which resulted in Russia’s suspension from the Olympics, WADA had, on multiple occasions, deliberately turned a blind eye even to the blatant admission of cheating by the athletes themselves. The IOC as a whole has a long history of incredible corruption, including the acceptance of bribes and, more relevantly, turning a blind eye to drug usage.

The IOC’s application of their own anti-doping code and practices could be described as lax at best and downright corrupt at worst. They themselves even encouraged the IPF to reduce the frequency of tests. It begs the question, then, why subsidiaries and signatories are to be held to such stringent scrutiny and adherence to the IOC’s standards. The USAPL and IPF conflict is, at its core, an ideological conflict set to the backdrop of the IOC’s monopolistic control of drug testing. If the ramifications for non-adherence to the WADA Code were not so tremendous and far-reaching, this would be a non-issue. Unfortunately, the IPF’s aim to be a global hegemon over powerlifting includes working with WADA-adhering international organizations, which is ironically incompatible with the USAPL’s pursuit to create an even playing field.

Perhaps it is in the best interest of both parties to permanently part ways, and sooner rather than later so as to minimize collateral damage to everyone else, such as the lifters, coaches, and the IPF’s potential new member federation. Fragmentation and rules could make it too difficult to compete regularly across federations, and the USAPL could go by the wayside like the USPF before it as a result. But I don’t find that likely; powerlifting is much bigger and coherent today than it was in those days. The USAPL is looking to pursue even more grandiose events with even greater cash prizes in the form of its Pro Series. A world may exist where the USAPL and IPF can coexist without being affiliates, and lifters can compete across both, similarly to the relationship between the NBA and the Olympics. This may not be the end-of-an-era, but the beginning of a new chapter in powerlifting. We’ll simply have to wait and see where the cards fall.

To the few of you subscribed to this infant newsletter expecting a new article this Wednesday, it’s going to take just a bit longer.

I wanted to get testimony from relevant figures for this next one and make sure I do this subject justice with a lot of prerequisite research.

Thanks for your understanding, and keep your eyes peeled for it soon!

— Ahmed

Deadlifts, one of the staple, big-3 powerlifting movements, are performed by gym-goers all the world over. Even beyond its presence in powerlifting, its applicability in strength training, muscle building, and even the rehabilitation of lower back pain have made it a facet of many competent lifting programs.

On its face, it seems to be one of the most intuitive lifts you can perform. Pick it up, and then return it to the ground. Sure, there are myriad variations, from sumo to Romanian, but the basic premise still holds.

Contrary to the movement’s seemingly black-and-white nature, you may have been bewildered to find that there are plenty of conflicting accounts and opinions of what is “right” and “wrong” when it comes to the deadlift, from how high your hips should be, to which variation to select, to what is an acceptable amount of back flexion. In reality, as with many adjacent concepts, “it depends,” and what satisfies “perfect” for any of these variables won’t look the same for everyone.

Anatomical Variations Will Dictate Setup

As I have discussed in a previous article, anatomy is often a strong influencer of how various compound movements will come together for different people. Particularly, the deadlift will be dictated by the relationship between the relative lengths of your arms, torso, and femurs. Assuming a consistent setup, someone with a longer torso and arms may appear to sit lower, while someone with shorter torso and arms will appear to sit higher, further back, and have a back angle closer to parallel to the ground. Neither position is inherently more injurious or dangerous; it’s dependent on the lifter’s own anthropology.

In terms of strength, the important optimization here is not how high or how low your hips are, but how short the moment arm, or the distance between the bar and your hips, can be, while also finding which joint angle (more simply, conventional or sumo) is optimal for force production for you, as different joint angles leverage different hip muscles. When the total range of motion is consistent, this is the variable you want to effect in order to be as strong as possible.

Even amongst individuals, there seems to be little consequence in variable hip height, depending on how close or far one sets up from the bar. One study sought to compare exactly that. The researchers had the participants set up in 2 different fashions: further from the bar (so as to have to sink the hips lower to bring the shins to the bar) and closer to the bar. They found that the force generated off the floor was consistent when lifters implemented either style. EMG amplitudes measured higher hamstring activation in the close setup and higher quad activation in the further setup, as expected by the level of knee and hip extension involved in either setup. There were no differences in shear or compressive spinal forces, indicating that neither was inherently more dangerous than the other.

That is not to say that one is more optimal for max deadlift strength than the other, as remember, sitting further back from the bar is almost certain to mean your hips have to move a greater distance to bring themselves into the bar, but that neither is particularly dangerous and both are legitimate depending on one’s own training goals.

Some Back Rounding is OK…Sometimes

Addressing back rounding in the deadlift is not as cut-and-dry as some would make it out to be. In some circumstances, it is okay or even inescapable. The key modifier here is “some”; if your back rounding is:

• within a tolerable threshold, or;

• mostly in the thoracic region;

then it’s probably not cause for concern.

Threshold

Practitioners often advocate for trainees to assume a “neutral” spinal position when loading the spine via heavy compound movements. It is often portrayed as a relatively flat spine with a natural, slightly lordotic curve towards the bottom. Some would view any deviation from such as sacrilege. While you may or may not be able to satisfy the textbook-definition appearance of “neutrality”, it should not be considered as one singular, rigid representation and should instead be considered across a range of acceptable levels of flexion or extension. This post by Dr. Stefani Cohen does a good job of illustrating this point:

Once you begin to consider all variables, including the lifter’s genetics, baseline spinal positioning, and overall anthropology, the waters become especially murky. For instance, a taller lifter with poor leverages or a more kyphotic spine may be incapable or have a harder time assuming a position that appears neutral. That is not to say that you should deliberately be lazy or sloppy; if getting into the right position is a matter of cues or practice for you, or you are missing a fundamental component of the movement (bracing, for instance), then you should work towards being consistently neutral to the best of your ability. However, if a lifter is consistent from their start position to their lockout, the degree of flexion is extremely minor or very little time is spent in a state of flexion, and the positioning has been tried and tested through time without injury, it’s probably little to worry over. If you are particularly concerned about lumbar (lower back) flexion, I’d recommend this article over by the folks at Stronger by Science, which goes into significant detail around injury risk and the subject of “neutral range”.

Thoracic Rounding

Thoracic rounding, or upper-back rounding, is a technique often leveraged by advanced powerlifters. Technically savvy powerlifters who have the motor ability to let their shoulders sag whilst maintaining lumbar rigidity can shave an inch or two off of the moment arm of their deadlift (bring their hips a bit closer to the bar) in order to be a just a bit stronger without significant risk of injury. You are effectively shortening your torso and, thus, bringing the bar closer to your hips. Powerlifter Richard Cho is a strong advocate of this technique:

Implementing this technique usually requires a great degree of proficiency with the deadlift and a strong sense of motor control in the upper back. A novice deadlifter is unlikely to see a significant benefit from implementing this, especially considering the work likely required to do it appropriately. Still, it’s worth noting that it is generally not a problem so long as the lifter is rigid through the lats and lower back, bracing correctly, and consistent throughout the movement.

There Is No Best Variation

Each of the variations has their draws and failings. In the context of powerlifting-legal variations, the sumo deadlift tends to be a bit more quad-dominant than the conventional thanks to the outward knee travel and upright positioning. Beyond the context of those two movements, there are a variety of alterations, such as the Romanian (RDL), stiff-legged, and others. You will have to be wise about selecting the proper variations conducive to your strength and muscle building goals, and will almost certainly include multiple in your own programming.

Explicitly in the context of powerlifting, contrary to what raging Internet trolls would have you believe, the advantages to either sumo or conventional are not so cut-and-dry; sumo isn’t a +100 lbs. cheat code for everybody. In one study, inexperienced deadlifters who were otherwise well-trained took on testing their sumo and conventional deadlifts. Across the board, there was little difference in 1 rep max strength, 60% AMRAP strength, and no clear anatomical indicators of which would be stronger. Even at the elite level, there are several powerlifters whose conventional deadlift is within spitting distance of their sumo. Yangsu Ren (sumo and conventional), Dan Green (sumo and conventional), and Ashton Rouska (sumo and conventional) are all good examples of extremely strong athletes whose sumo and conventional deadlifts are fairly interchangeable.

That is to say that these findings are not necessarily indicative of long-term training outcomes for everybody, especially because skill acquisition is an important part of sumo deadlifting. If your goal is to lift as much weight as possible, my recommendation is to start prioritizing what comes most naturally and feels most comfortable initially. For most people, this would be conventional thanks to sumo’s skill acquisition curve. You can train them in tandem and alternate priority across several training cycles until you ultimately land on which is stronger. Having a second opinion from an experienced coach is also helpful to ensure you are maximizing either variation effectively.

Don’t make perfect the enemy of good. Your version of perfect may not look like a textbook characterization of the deadlift. You should strive to address fundamental failings and seek to address recurring injuries and blatant weaknesses, but a Yury Belkin upright sumo deadlift or completely balanced hip positioning on the conventional deadlift may not be in the cards for you.

In my own several years of training as a self-proclaimed deadlift specialist, my deadlift has taken many shapes through numerous variations, setups, and technical cues. Despite being far from optimal on multiple occasions, the only time I’ve incurred an injury through deadlifting was a hip injury, and it was the result of inappropriate load management (too much in too little time). I still consider my deadlift a work-in-progress.

The greatest advice I could offer you is to record and analyze regularly, perhaps with a second opinion in the form of a coach or training partner. As with myself and many successful deadlifters, it will take careful experimentation over time to find what works and what doesn’t work for you, so don’t fret if things are not falling into place right away.

Full Disclosure: I am not a physician, and this is not a precise protocol. These are simply recommendations based on my personal experiences and some evidence collection. Any example metrics provided are just that. Risks include but are not limited to hypo/hypernatremia, irregular bowel movements, and heat stroke. See a medical professional if you have concerns or preexisting conditions.

Weight cuts and manipulation have long stood as a competitive strategy in all weight-class oriented sports. The allure is simple: walk around on a regular basis at a much higher bodyweight before rapidly dropping the weight at the last moment. Between weigh-in and the competition, you can refuel to try and make up the difference.

On the surface, it sounds like an obvious way to gain an edge over your competition, but it can have serious implications if done poorly, especially in quantitative strength sports. Currently, it is a bit of an under-researched domain, and the practices surrounding it are a bit of a soft science. As such, people have been relegated largely to pseudoscientific approaches shared by word-of-mouth.

Over the years, I have implemented weight cuts several times while competing in powerlifting with varying degrees of success; some quite large (~5% bodyweight) and some quite small (~1%), all with 24-hours between weigh-ins and the meet. Just this last weekend, I was able to put up a PR total while dropping around 11 pounds over the course of the previous week. Here are some of the lessons I’ve gleaned and the ways I’ve refined my strategy over the years.

Prioritize Losing Fat First

One of the draws of a short-term weight loss strategy is that it enables you to eat at least at maintenance intake through the lead up to the competition. While this is ideal for maintaining strength and performance, you have to be realistic with yourself; you likely aren’t going to lose 10+% of your weight in a single week or two without a significant impact to your performance (assuming no drug usage). There is an exponential relationship between every pound you need to lose via dehydration and the impact on strength performance. That being said, a rapid drop in weight amounting to 5% has been shown to be ameliorated within 12 hours without significant strength consequences, so if you are seeking to perform a dramatic weight cut for a 24-hour weigh-in, I wouldn’t recommend you take it much further than 5%.

Now, the following advice is highly variable between people and is contingent on your starting point. Insulin sensitivity, leverages, training history, and PED usage all play roles here. While I cannot give you a precise minimum body fat percentage to target, you ideally would be as lean as possible while striving to preserve hormonal balance, daily energy expenditure/BMR, and leverages, relative to your baseline. The more experienced you are, the less body fat you will be able to lose without impacting your performance negatively.

For myself, the sweet spot is around 12% body fat, while I generally work up to 15-20% during off-season. However, an experienced super-heavyweight walking around at 25-30+% body fat would have a much harder time staying near peak performance while dropping to 12%.

In other words, if you are between 15 and 30% body fat, expect to be able to drop 5-10 points off that number via a sound diet (20-25% calorie deficit + adequate (~1g/lb. bodyweight) protein intake) before noticing a significant impact on strength. If you can get under your target weight without manipulating food or water, this is ideal.

Forced Dehydration Is the Last Resort, Not the First Priority

When assessing short-term weight loss solutions, forcing dehydration by means of active or passive sweating should be seen as a last resort, not the first step. Oddly enough and contrary to my opinion, many people simply wait-and-see until a few days remain and then decide to hit the sauna or an epsom salt bath. The heat required to induce passive sweating has potentially detrimental effects on strength and endurance and can even be dangerous at presumably already low levels of hydration. You can generally get away with 3-5% weight loss by simply manipulating water, electrolytes, and diet.

In the order of most-to-least desirable strategies, here are how I personally rate them in terms of cost-benefit analysis (numbers 5 and 6 are truly reserved for 24-hour weigh-ins):

1. 16-hour fast before weigh-ins (may need to shorten that window for 2-hour weigh-ins or extend it for 24-hour weigh-ins if you are a bit behind);

2. Switching to low-residue foods a few days out (avoiding fiber and opting for calorically-dense options);

3. Loading water throughout the week and cutting it the day before weigh-ins (I work up from 100 ml/kg bodyweight to 120 ml/kg bodyweight);

4. Loading sodium throughout the week and cutting it up to a couple of days before weigh-ins (my high sodium days target around 4000-5000 mg, while my low sodium days are around 500 mg. If you are a lighter person, you could get away with lowering the high days a bit);

5. Reducing carbs (I prefer gradually) over the course of the week to lower glycogen levels (I work down to 30-50 grams per day);

6. As an absolute last resort, the night before or the morning of weigh-ins, induce sweating by sauna, light cardio, jacuzzi, etc.

Have a Well-Considered Refeed Strategy

Depending on which of the aforementioned protocols you might’ve implemented, you will need to have a viable refeed strategy to correct any imbalances or depletions you may have incurred.

Fat intake should not exceed more than is necessary; for simplicity’s sake, this would roughly be in the domain of 0.2 - 0.4 grams-per-pound of total body weight. The majority of your calories should come from carbohydrates, and a significant portion of that should come from high-glycemic, low fiber sources so as to digest quickly. This is especially important if you reduced carb intake as a mechanism to drop water weight. Total glycogen storage is in the ballpark of 15 grams per kilogram of body weight. To replenish this energy, you should at least seek to consume 10 grams-per-kilogram of fat-free mass (i.e., if you are 90 kg at 10% body fat, you should shoot for 810 grams of carbs in 24 hours). You would not be in a primed state to replenish glycogen since you are relatively untrained and depleted, so you should be aiming to ingest this at a rate of around 1 gram-per-kilogram of bodyweight per hour.

On the liquid front, as opposed to chugging them as quickly as possible, you should try to consume them slowly over the course of several hours so as to appropriately absorb electrolytes and water rather than flushing everything through your kidneys. Initially it is probably fine to down some liquid, especially if you are extremely dehydrated, but beyond your initial chug, you should take your time and consume around 1 liter over the course of an hour to properly give yourself time to absorb the electrolytes. I prefer a combination of water, Pedialyte (electrolytes), Gatorade or some other sports drink (also electrolytes), and whey or other liquid protein (to aid in the process of glycolysis). You may also consider something like Clamato or pickle juice if you have manipulated sodium intake and can’t seem to recuperate enough from the aforementioned drinks.

Honorable Mentions

Here are several other factors to consider that perhaps I didn’t have enough information to elaborate on at length, but felt deserved to be included:

• Don’t taper the water load down; cut it quickly. You may taper the load up, but cut the water quickly on the last day, maybe the last 2 days at most. You don’t want to give your body any time to acclimate to the reduced intake and impact the diuretic hormones responsible for dropping the water (vasopressin, aldosterone, and ADH).

• The same goes for sodium. If you are manipulating sodium, try and wait until the last day or 2 to reduce your intake, for the reasons mentioned above.

• Taper carbs down if necessary. Unlike sodium and water, there is no drastic effect to cutting carbs. You may find it necessary to taper your carbs throughout the week to avoid experiencing “keto flu” and other side effects.

• Keep track of your morning and night weight on a regular basis. You’ll want to have some sense about how much weight you drop every night. Having access to a calibrated scale is even better so that you have a high degree of confidence in your measurements and their consistency (also, this is generally what they use at competition weigh-ins).

• Reduce or eliminate all unnecessary sources of stress during this process. This can be a highly stressful process, especially on the final day. You’ll want to reduce all forms of physiological and mental stress to the best of your ability. Dial-in sleep, avoid drinking alcohol, and rest as much as possible.

• Don’t stretch this out. The bulk of this process should only take 5 or 6 days. You don’t want to spend 2 to 3 weeks drinking inordinate amounts of water or eating a paltry few grams of carbs.

• Temper your expectations. No matter what your recovery looks like, there is a strong chance that you are still not going to be 100% on the day of competition. Be realistic about the process and be willing to make adjustments and compromises.

• Implement only what is necessary. This will require some trial and error over time and knowledge of your own response sensitivity to the various protocols. Of the processes mentioned in the previous section, it’s safe to assume that implementing all of them full-force would probably drop 6-8% of your bodyweight. In which case, for example, if you only needed to drop 3% of your bodyweight, you could perhaps scale back the water load, or skip the low carb protocol.

Honestly, It’s Probably Not Worth It

All of that was to say, you’re probably better off competing at your usual morning weight, or at least close enough (within 1-2% of it) such that losing a few pounds the day prior is not an excruciating experience. I know, I know; you’ve heard it all before, and you’ve already made up your mind. Rather than repeat the same spiel about “not being worth it unless you are competing (inter)nationally or setting a record,” allow me to impart a different perspective.

This last weight cut of mine was perhaps my best-executed drastic weight cut. It was not for a national event or a record, but for a local meet. I lost about 5% of my weight over the course of 6 days. My best lifts in training were conservative; I definitely had left a lot in the tank and expected to show out at the meet. Despite everything being dialed in very well, thanks to a combination of unforeseen judging, the effects of the cut on my squat, and an all-out failed deadlift attempt that I was simply too fatigued to pull off, I couldn’t even match those conservative maxes in competition. Squats were a dizzying experience. I did not feel fully recovered until around the middle of the meet, about 30 hours after I began eating again.

Had I simply weighed in at 94 kg and totaled ~720+ kg as was indicated by training, my DOTS (a standard measuring relative strength) would have been ~455 points. Instead, I totaled 695 at 90 kg and my DOTS was ~450. I won second in my class in the open age category. I believe, even with the 695 total, I would’ve won first in the weight class up from mine (this would be far less likely to occur at a national-level or invitation-only meet, where the relationship between weight and strength is generally linear). I still would’ve won best junior lifter, regardless. In other words, cutting weight had no positive impact on my standing. If anything, it negatively impacted my standing.

While I don’t necessarily regret the water cut, in hindsight, it was superfluous. I would’ve been satisfied to simply compete at my usual weight, perform a little bit better, and perhaps even place higher than I did. Additionally, I could’ve foregone the entire very stressful process of weight manipulation.

For 99.99% of us, the goal of competing should be to enjoy the process, benchmark ourselves, and push ourselves to raise our own personal bar. It should be fun. If rapid, giant weight cuts turn a sport into a miserable and hellish experience, then they are for naught. You may feel compelled to cut weight by some psychological burden bearing its weight on you, whether it be commitment, your own expectations, or something else, and while I can advise you, I can’t change your mind.

But consider an alternative world where you have the leisure to fill out your weight class, to eat mostly as you please, and to not have to induce unnatural weight swings through a vicious cycle of gorging and depriving. I have seen both worlds, and I can tell you right now that you will generally be happier in a reality without weight cuts.

When 30-year-old Hidilyn Diaz trumped her competition and set all-time records in weightlifting during the 2020 Tokyo Olympics this July, you’d had never known that she’d been relegated to far-from-ideal training circumstances. From training with a MacGyver’d bamboo machination, scantily fastened with bands and bottles, to winning on the highest stage in weightlifting, her story clearly imbues inspiration in the hearts of athletes all-over.

It was a victory over 15 years in the making since her first competition in 2006. After ending the Philippines’ 20-year-long medal drought in 2016 with a second place win, she had her sights focused on bringing home the gold in 2020, a first for the Philippines. However, the pandemic loomed large over the world. She was no exception, stranded by travel restrictions in Malaysia from February 2020 right up until the Olympics this July. By April of 2020, the Malaysian Government’s lockdown mandates had closed access to gyms. For nearly 6 months, she was stuck improvising with sticks and bottles until she was able to relocate to a weightlifting official’s home in the coastal state of Malacca. Though she eventually gained access to proper equipment, COVID-19 restrictions forced her outside to train in the sweltering heat, right up until the culmination of her hard work took form as a 224 kg. total in Tokyo.

While rebounding so triumphantly from a months-long period of relative detraining may strike awe (and to her credit, she went to great lengths to optimize her training as best she could), many experienced lifters who’d taken absence from training for any extended period of time (maybe because of an injury, shuffling life’s priorities, or even COVID-19) would have experienced a similar phenomenon of rapid reacclimatization, often referred to as “muscle memory”. The notion that you can much more quickly regain lost muscle and strength compared to when you first built it has long stood as accepted postulate among experienced lifters. This mechanism is what enabled Hidilyn Diaz to emerge from months of subpar training and secure a win in under a year. Only relatively recently have the mechanisms by which these processes occur been explored; namely, gene expression and the retention of myonuclei.

Gene Expression

Recent research seeking answers to the muscle memory conundrum analyzed a process known as gene methylation. Gene methylation is the binding of a chemical known as a methyl with DNA. In simple terms, if DNA are the instructions to be transcribed and translated by various RNA to produce the proteins involved in carrying out biological functions, think of methyls as a stop sign in these circumstances. This process exists because all DNA in the body is the same, but not every cell needs to carry out or express every gene in order to accomplish its functions; hence, methylation. Generally, the higher the level of gene methylation, the less frequently or intensely that gene can be expressed. The inverse is also true.

Researchers had untrained, healthy subjects train for 7 weeks, pause training for 7 weeks, and then retrain on the same program for 7 more weeks. Strength and lean mass fell significantly on average during the unloading phase, and then quickly soared past their previous peaks during the reloading phase, indicating that subjects were able to match their previous records quickly.

During all three phases, the researchers analyzed gene methylation patterns, and found that genes directly responsible for growth, hypotrophy, and other processes tangential to muscle building retained lower levels of methylation through detraining (meaning, they’d more readily be expressed). Thus, it can be interpreted that gene expression played some role in bringing their gains back from the dead.

Myonuclei Retention

The scientific consensus on this phenomenon, however, is muddied by the role of another variable: namely, myonuclei. For quite some time, myonuclei retention was believed to be the primary dictate in explaining muscle memory. However, with the advent of more recent research attempting to analyze this idea in humans over longer periods, it’s not entirely clear that the theory holds weight; most likely, this is a variable, but not the principal cause.

Essentially, the idea reads something like this: skeletal muscle fibers, some of the longest cells in the body, are multi-nucleus cells. These nuclei, referred to as myonuclei, are generated by satellite cells on top of the myofibers in response to hormonal or training stimuli. It was originally believed that these myonuclei would persist after muscle has atrophied, but new research has discredited that idea; they simply appear to atrophy at a much slower pace than the muscle itself. Other research, however, has given rise to the idea that the myonuclear domains (the cytoplasm and organelles around those nuclei) are retained with time and may facilitate faster rebuilding of new myonuclei following a period of detraining.

Regardless of how muscle memory is accomplished physiologically, its effects have been documented in science for a long time, and there are likely hundreds of thousands of anecdotal accounts to support the idea. Hidilyn Diaz’s story is a demonstration of the potential for training experience and years of hard work to persist, even at the world-class, elite level and with months-long bouts away from the usual equipment and training. It’s a testament to the veracity of the concept of muscle memory. She made the most of an uncertain situation, retrained her way out of a months-long hiatus, and found a way to show up and show out on the day of reckoning; an example we could all strive to emulate.

It’s important to preface this with a disclaimer. I’d like to signal that, for many, losing out on some time at the gym is the least of their worries. Many are living in fear of losing their livelihood, their place of living, or, worst of all, their lives, whether it be at the hands of the virus or its rippling effect of despair on global socioeconomic intricacies. If the greatest worry for you right now is whether or not you may be able to pick up a barbell in the next few months, I’d say you have it pretty good.

In any case, I can understand why staying as fit, able, and athletic as possible during these tumultuous times may be of significance to you. After all, some early research even appears to indicate that testosterone may be correlated with mitigating the effects of the virus. Either way, lean mass preservation and building play a large role in overall health, and higher lean mass has been generally linked to a lower risk for all-cause mortality.

For avid-meatheads and lifting newbs alike, here is my best advice for maintaining or even possibly scaling your own muscle mass on an upward trajectory during these uncertain times.

TLDR;

• Manage Volume — Depending on what equipment you have access to, you may need to manage your training volume a bit differently than you are used to, either with higher intensity for shorter, less frequent sessions or more absolute volume for lighter weights.

• Make Equipment — If you don’t have access to your usual equipment, jerry rigging your own with some common hardware can go a long way.

• Be Mindful Of Your Nutrition — If you can’t train at all, the worst thing you can do is put yourself in a caloric surplus. Try to maintain some activity and monitor your nutrition.

Balancing Frequency, Volume, and Intensity

A quick primer for the uninvolved: these variables equate to a fundamental balance that underpins every strength training program, even if you haven’t consciously realized it.

Frequency — how often you target a muscle group, domain of exercises, or even a single exercise on a periodic basis.

Volume — the number of reps and sets of an exercise or group of exercises performed on a periodic basis.

Intensity — the load, especially relative to a single- or multi-rep maximum.

For much more information on this subject matter and more, I recommend giving Dr. Eric Helms’s video on the topic a look if you have time for it:

As one would imagine, these variables are not independent, but highly interlinked with one another. Balancing these variables to produce an effective program that allows you to complete sessions from week-to-week while progressing and mitigating injury is a cornerstone of strength-training programming. In other words, you need an intensity that allows you to produce the most hypertrophy and progression possible (generally in the ballpark of 70–90% for most), while allowing you to prescribe ample volume across a selection of different (but consistent) exercises, performed at a frequency that allows you to effectively manage fatigue and time.

Less is More

If all of this sounds reasonable or familiar, then my next point should make perfect sense, and that is to make do with the situation and manage your volume a bit differently than if you had full access to your usual equipment. If you are able to access equipment rarely or on a less frequent basis or your sessions are shortened by restrictions, it doesn’t take much stimuli (even one workout per week may be adequate, according to these studies) to maintain most or all of your muscle mass. Higher intensity paired with lower volumes than what you are used to will be enough for most people to maintain their muscle. Even one major compound movement per region will be enough to satisfy your skeletal muscle’s needs.

However, I recognize that the people in the previously described category represent a minority. Most of us do not have access to our regular equipment in any capacity at the moment. With that in mind, some lighter equipment (even and especially makeshift weights, which I address below) can still go a long way. The inverse logic applies here; lower intensity, higher volume sessions and exercises are enough, and for many, are even more than enough, as a meta-analysis conducted by renowned researcher Brad Schoenfeld illustrates that hypertrophy can be achieved across a wide spectrum of rep ranges. Even if either of these aforementioned suggested training styles don’t align with your typical, optimized, or highly goal-oriented training styles, consider them as opportunities to explore alternative stimuli. Maybe you have been training a certain way for several months or even years; this could be a good moment in time to capitalize on experimentation in your training program, which may even help you overcome a wall or plateau once you eventually return to training regularly.

Make Your Own Equipment, If Need Be

As gyms around the world have shut their doors to their patrons, it’s no secret that demand has skyrocketed for home gym equipment. Many independent sellers (read: scalpers) have listed equipment for exorbitantly high prices, several factors above their usual listing price. Inventory from all of the big manufacturers, like Rogue and Titan have had their shelves cleared by desperate lifters.

If you have managed to grab some equipment early on, great. More than likely, though, you lacked either the space, the foresight, or the financial means to make it happen, and now you might be wondering about what to do. While fitspo influencers tout somewhat ridiculous looking bodyweight exercises, you can definitely take it a little further than hundreds of strange looking push-ups and planks if you are creative enough.

I was able to reap a lot out of a couple of buckets of Quikrete and a dip belt. Formulating Quikrete into concrete is quite easy (just add water), and the dip belt is highly versatile in that it enables you to perform a multitude of exercises: dips, belt squats, pull-ups, and chin-ups, to name a few notable examples. Makeshift dumbbells could be had by doing as I did and filling some buckets of various sizes with sediment, sand, and/or concrete. For the stronger people out there, a 5-gallon bucket of concrete can weigh between 80 and 100 pounds if filled near its max capacity. Programming around some compound movements that don’t require a barbell, such as weighted push-ups, lunges, and anything else you can think of can get you quite far while you wait to get your hands on a barbell.

Whatever You Do, Try Not To Get Fat

Even if, for whatever reason, you cannot get in any sort of lifting or resistance activity, avoid the compulsion to eat more and move less. Even if you were eating in a caloric surplus before all of this, it’ll be far more difficult to undo the damage incurred by gaining copious body fat now than it will be to restore your strength and lean mass down the line. Regaining muscle and strength is generally a non-issue, as you are already well-adapted and rich with myonuclei; it’s not as though all of your work thus far will be magically undone.

Working against an escalating body fat is another story. Your daily expenditure (TDEE) will likely be reduced significantly in tandem with your reduced activity, so persisting your previous dietary habits (assuming they were at maintenance levels or above) to a tee means that your previous intake is now well above your maintenance limit, to the point in which it has become unhealthy. By the time you return to the gym, you would have gained copious amounts of fat depending on how far out the lockdown persists, and would be spending months reversing that damage before you can return to making progress again. Hypertrophy is known to be slower, stagnant, or even reversed in an extended caloric deficit, so generally speaking, the less time you have to spend reducing excess body fat, the better.

Even making an effort to do things as simple as going on walks around the block and tracking your nutrition carefully is, again, better than inaction. As stressful and difficult as times may be, it’s important to remember to persist, not to give into pressure, and come out the other side strong.

Whatever you decide to do, don’t let your mind be clouded by the flurry of pessimism and negativity corroding the minds of millions every day. No matter how you frame it, there’s no questioning that this scenario has caused pain, be it through illness or through its rippling effect on normalcy. I nor anyone else can reassure you with any absolute certainty about the future. I understand that, for many, including myself, training was a form of escapism; a way to retract oneself from the misgivings of every day reality; a meditative experience. And although it may seem awful to lose that getaway in such bizarre and potentially turbulent times, always remember to weigh and affirm your fortunes, pick up the pieces, and the question will not be “if”, but “when”.

Squats and deadlifts are unanimously agreed upon to be cornerstone exercises for most able-bodied athletes by any coach or trainer worth their salt. When you consider the movement patterns, they are superficially similar exercises which employ similar muscle groups. While both movements are programmed with the intention of targeting particular muscle groups, both exercises’ ability to elicit full-body hypertrophic effects is what makes them so popular amongst iron-bound athletes.

Given the apparent similarities between these movements, you may have wondered why there tends to be a discrepancy between the strength and stats of these movements for most people. While the deadlift tends to trend higher than the squat for nearly everybody, for some, the difference is more drastic than for others. Ultimately, it comes down to how the biomechanics of each movement harmonize with your unique anthropomorphic tendencies, as well as your practice developing the independent movement patterns. In simpler terms, the shape and insertions of your musculature and skeleton and how good you are at performing each movement make all the difference in the world for the squat and the deadlift.

Biomechanical Differences

Before we delve into the minutiae of both movements, it’s important to ensure an understanding of some basic scientific concepts surrounding the forces involved in each movement.

Fulcrum, Lever, and Moment Arms: Explained

If you’ve ever come across research or articles surrounding weight lifting science, you’ve almost certainly encountered the terms fulcrum, lever, and moment arm. The most common metaphorical analogy for demonstrating these concepts is that of a wrench. Consider the nut that the wrench encroaches as the joint (formally the fulcrum). Now, consider applying a downward force to the wrench at any point on the handle via your hands. If you apply force closer to the head of the wrench, you will likely have to push much harder than if you were to apply force further away from the head of the wrench. The compromise is that, given the shorter length of the handle or lever, you can generally rotate your hand less distance to move the fulcrum the same distance rotationally (assuming that you can actually generate enough force to do so in this compromised position).

The rotational force being applied is known as torque, and is a vector that is the product of the acting force and the distance from the fulcrum (also called the moment arm), as well as sin of the angle created by the intersecting body of the lever and the lever itself.

Squats Versus Deadlifts

Before I put you to sleep, let’s apply some of what we’ve discussed to the movement patterns at hand. At it’s core, the eccentric (downward) portion of the squat involves knee, hip, and ankle flexion; a stretch reflex is activated in the bottom position, resulting in extension of the involved appendices, producing the force necessary to get yourself out of the hole. Additionally, several other muscles, including the rectus abdominis, obliques, erector spinae, and even the terres muscles, are involved in stabilizing the torso and shoulders throughout the entire movement.

When it comes to the deadlift, the water is muddied a bit by inherent differences between sumo and conventional stances. Inclination of your torso forward over the bar increases spinal extension demands. Thus, a conventional deadlift, with its naturally more horizontal back angle, will demand more from your back than a sumo deadlift. The squat and deadlift’s muscle recruitment overlap occurs primarily in the posterior chain, via the hamstrings, glutes, and erectors. Additionally, the deadlift is also reliant on the lifter’s ability to stabilize the bar path via a collection of smaller muscles serving satellite functionality to the primary movers.

Broadly, that’s where the similarities between the two movements end. The squat is significantly more demanding of your ability to extend your knees (and thus, is significantly more quad-dominant, especially rectus femoris, than the deadlift). Assuming an ideal deadlift execution, your shins would be as close to vertical as possible, and knee extension and the quadriceps’ role in the movements would thereby be limited. Even assuming your starting position was compromised enough to produce significant knee extension, your shins would likely get in the way of the bar, the bar would drift forward significantly, and your body would correct the drift by flexing your spine. Your hips and your ability to seat your hips closer to the bar is imperative to efficient deadlift execution, sometimes even at the cost of thoracic stability.

That isn’t to say that the hips are not also a significant force generator of the squat. In fact, the hips and knees work in tandem to produce knee extension, thanks to “Lombard’s Paradox,” a principle named after a famous biomechanical scientist who sought to understand how antagonistic muscle groups could work together to produce movements like standing, running, and jumping. This would explain why people whose hips shoot too far behind the bar path at the bottom of a squat often struggle to recover. I recommend you read this great article by Greg Nuckols if you are interested in learning more on the matter.

All things considered, however, when you consider the situation through the lens of the physics concepts described earlier, the technical differences become more apparent. In many ways, the squat is significantly more technically demanding than the deadlift. Because the force of the load sits between the two articulating joints, the knees and the hips, there are two significant moment arms in the movement: that between the hip and the bar path and the moment arm between the knee and the bar path. As a result, the relationship between the extending knee and hip joints, and the many forms this relationship takes as a result of various squat positions (high bar, low bar, front squat, etc.), compounded by the infinite potential anatomical variations, means that the squat is a highly more variable, technical movement. Regardless, lifters with an ability to keep their torso upright while not sacrificing bar path stability tend to be gifted squatters.

Conversely, the deadlift only has one primary moment arm: the length between the hip and the force vector generated by the bar at your shoulders. Anatomically speaking, the equation is fairly simple; if you can shorten the length of the lever (in this case, the distance between your hips and the bar), you can thereby lift more weight. That being said, the positional differences between the sumo and conventional deadlift described earlier necessitates that one requires more hip strength and the other back strength, respectively. Thus, although the sumo deadlift would technically decrease the moment arm of the movement, successful sumo deadlifting is contingent on the lifter’s hip strength. Regardless, amongst various lifters with equal musculature and training experience, the lifter with shorter shin-to-femur ratio and longer arms will almost always be able to deadlift more than their contemporaries. Additionally, those with shorter torsos and longer arms will generally be able to get their hips closer to the bar in the bottom position. Generally, this anatomy would be equally disadvantageous to those trying to maximize their squat, as in order to keep the bar path over mid foot, these shorter torso’d lifters would have to pitch their hip angle far more forward than their long-torso’d counterparts.

Additional Considerations

In addition to the biomechanical differences between the movements, picking things up is far more common in day-to-day circumstances than squatting with a load. Thus, it isn’t far fetched to assume that the squat motor pattern is deficient in comparison to the deadlift for most people.

Also, a reduction in spinal stability and spinal flexion wouldn’t necessarily negate the ability to complete a deadlift. Since knee extension is no longer a core component of the deadlift and load isn’t placed on top of the shoulders, you can generally get away with some thoracic flexion and still be able to lockout a deadlift. Because of the synchronous nature of the knee and hip joints in the squat, any give in the thoracic stability of the squat will almost certainly lead to forward hip tilt and compromise the entire movement if you cannot recover.

Practical Takeaways

While you may never be able to completely diminish the gap between your squat and deadlift, that’s perfectly normal. If you’re a competitive powerlifter, you can always play to your strengths. If you’re training these movements in order to add musculature or enhance performance in some other athletic endeavor, it’s all relative; any increase to either movement is positive gains. If you’re still headstrong on turning the tables, not all hope is lost; there is a lot you can do to benefit progression of either movement. Here are some key takeaways:

• Become better at bracing. Stability is a key component of both of these movements, but especially the squat. The more rigid you can keep your thoracic and lumbar regions throughout the movements, the less torque necessary to produce the force necessary to complete the movement.

• Perform the movement you are worse at more frequently. Again, much of the discrepancy may come from poor motor pattern development of either movement. The only true solution to this problem is to incorporate more volume and frequency and induce more practice (while managing fatigue, of course). In compromising volume from the more advanced movement, which likely elicits a greater recovery deficit thanks to your ability to more efficiently carry out the movement, you are also technically managing volume more effectively than you would otherwise.

• Pick the variation of each movement that strikes the right balance between efficiency and comfort. While there is a general consensus about which variation of each movement is most effective given the anatomical circumstances at play, you may need to experiment for several weeks or even months at a time with each movement before you find one that strikes the right balance between progression, comfort, and efficiency, while also being conducive to your goals as an athlete.

It has become impossible to remain deaf to the ever-escalating, decades-long obesity epidemic. Estimates produced in the late ’90s and early 2000’s pinned the global obese population around 250 million, forecasting a gradual expansion to 300 million by 2025. According to the World Health Organization in 2016, we’ve managed to blow past those figures to roughly 650 million obese adults and 1.9 billion overweight adults worldwide.

Although the current narrative surrounding the crisis is evidently grim, many victims have taken it upon themselves to seek solutions. Intrinsically, the core problem is rather simple: weight gain is produced by eating more calories than one manages to stave off via the combined efforts of their metabolic and conscious activity in a single day. Nonetheless, the reasoning for which people induce the conditions necessary to become (and stay) fat is complex. As such, people feel a need to augment the core disciplines of eating less and moving more with dietary patterns and tools allegedly designed to produce faster results, mitigate hunger, and improve aesthetics.

So how did a hundred-year-old diet, concocted to aid epileptics, come to be one of the biggest fads in fitness? The ketogenic diet, which was long-believed to be a defunct means of treating epilepsy, has evolved into water-cooler banter as the most effective dietary protocol for rapid fat loss, replete with oil, cheese, and bacon. Unfortunately, reality is far less glamorous. When it comes to weight loss, a keto-based diet which does not adhere to the nonnegotiables of energy balance will be no more effective than any other. Thus, it begs the question: why does it persevere as ubiquitously as it has?

A Brief History Lesson

Long before the conception of the ketogenic diet, fasting was utilized in order to treat illnesses, especially those neurological in nature. From potentially before 500 BC, humans have deliberately starved themselves to allay the frequency of epileptic seizures. It wasn’t until the early 1900s, just a century ago, that we began to develop a stronger grasp on the chemical and physiological processes behind the efficacy of this practice.

Several scientists had narrowed down the physiological mechanisms by which seizures were blunted or completely eradicated by starvation: the production of ketones appeared to be consistent across all subjects exhibiting promising results. Thus, in an attempt to incur ketone production without starvation, the ketogenic diet was developed and prescribed to patients with epilepsy for a time. However, around 1938, the scientific community at-large shifted their attention away from the ketogenic diet, in conjunction with the development of diphenylhydantoin, towards the continued development of antiepileptic drugs.

Research receded on the matter until 1994, when NBC aired a story on their Dateline program detailing the miraculous curing of a young Charles Abraham’s seizures by utilizing this long-lost diet when contemporary medicinal solutions proved fallible. Thus, research surrounding the diet accelerated, and many in the fitness space began seeking applications beyond its intended medicinal use.

In short time, this led to new research well into the 2000’s and onward which began to revitalize interest in ketosis-inspired diets of the 1970’s, such as the Atkins diet. When podcasters like Tim Ferris and Joe Rogan began interviewing prominent researchers and figures around keto, (such as Dom D’Agostino, a leading researcher in the keto-sphere), the topic hit the limelight, and many people desperate for a solution to their health and weight woes clung to gross misinterpretations of the literature and bountiful anecdotal evidence across the internet. Soon after, Instagram’s “Explore” page and fitness “subreddits” would be replete with unbelievable ketogenic transformations.

How Does Keto (Supposedly) Work?

Physiology

In order to enter the fabled state of “ketosis”, one would have to subject themselves to a paltry carbohydrate intake below 20 grams per day. Eventually, glucose reserves would become too low to produce oxaloacetate for normal fat oxidation, and there wouldn’t be enough glucose to sustain the central nervous system (CNS). Because the CNS cannot utilize fatty acids (they don’t cross the blood-brain barrier), acetyl-CoA from the Krebs Cycle derives substitutes billed as “ketones” (acetone and beta-hydroxybutyric, or AcAc and BHB).

Debunking Alleged Benefits

Ketogenic pundits would have you believe that said physiological mechanisms and ketones induce increased clarity, improved fat loss, and even increased athleticism. Scientifically literate advocates would direct you towards a popular, cherry picked study or two (or even three), from which they would extrapolate remedial and fat loss miracles of the ketogenic diet.

What many fail to acknowledge about the approaches taken in the presented research is that these studies don’t equate protein intake when comparing ketogenic dieters with their carb-ingesting counterparts. For reference, many of the alleged benefits of the ketogenic diet can be reaped simply by increasing protein intake, regardless of carb intake, including increased fat loss, muscle hypertrophy, and improved health markers. What’s worse is that studies analyzing groups of participants where protein is equated find no major differences in fat loss results, but find lower energy levels amongst keto-participating members and worse health markers, including lower micronutrient counts, increased cholesterol, and a pittance of fiber intake.

Athletes and frequent gym-goers executing more performant exercise regimens will find greater performance output in consuming carb-rich diets. Contrary to the common assertions in favor of fat-laden diets, carbohydrates provide more immediate access to energy via glycolysis and suppress cortisol better than protein and fat alone. In extreme circumstances, increased carbohydrate intake can even fend off disease for overexerted athletes. While fat’s slower metabolization may be beneficent towards highly specific endurance athletes, and the ketogenic diet might lend itself well to extremely sedentary individuals who don’t otherwise have a need for constant access to glycogen (in other words, they don’t move enough) (or, in rare cases, exhibit legitimate symptoms of carb-sensitivity), most people would probably still stand to benefit from a more balanced alternative.

Have Your Steak and Eat Your Potatoes, Too

The engines of misinformation (such as social media influencers) surrounding the ketogenic diet continue to proliferate misinterpretations of its scientific basis, compounded by loosely supported anecdote often conflated with placebo delusions, in order to sell a product or service. In reality, keto and its applications for those seeking fat loss is little more than a buzzword. Unless executed to a tedious degree of calculation and preparation, one may end up feeling worse, being less healthy, and having worse results than if they were to simply eat a more balanced diet.

At the end of the day, we can give disparate proportions of carbs, protein, and fat whatever fancy names we desire, but it’s ultimately a matter of palate. Keto and its sibling protocols are fads which won’t save us all from our obesity-inducing habits. They come and go, but the fundamentals always remain. Buzzwords can dress up the non-negotiable scientific truths with glitz, glamour, and promises, but never replace them outright.

No promises in the world of weightlifting can quite stack up to the elusive allure of steroids. And, rightfully so; their demonstrative power to induce anabolism has been witnessed in both science and anecdote. In some cases, androgenic anabolic steroid users experienced greater lean mass increases than new, natural lifters, even when not even lifting weights at all.

Unfortunately, as is ubiquitously known, steroid usage does not come without consequences, some of which are relatively irreversible. Many over the years have touted alternative panaceas that allegedly serve the same function and effect as recognizably malignant steroids, but without the undesirable consequences. These attempts at a quick buck tend to manifest themselves in hoaxical training regimens, absurd dietary patterns, and snake oil supplements.

One of the most contemporary of these crazes surrounds a supplement known as laxogenin (formally known as 5-alpha hydroxy laxogenin), a compound belonging to a collection of plant-derived compounds known as brassinosteroids. Brassinosteroids are chemically similar to animal-cholesterol-derived steroids, and serve a similar purpose in plants. One of the most popular brands of laxogenin is a product called Halo, being sold by the renowned supplement company, RedCon1. RedCon1 asserts some rather bold claims on their product page, alleging that their 100 mg/capsule dosage is capable of delivering 200% increases in muscle protein synthesis. They promise things like:

• Steroid-like anabolism;

• Decreased cortisol;

• Greater fat loss;

. . .all while having, allegedly, no effect on your endocrine system, androgen receptors, or hormonal levels! Whenever a supplement, product, or shortcut sounds too good to be true, it very likely is, in fact, too good to be true. To be frank and succinct: we simply do not know enough about laxogenin, brassinosteroids, and other related plant-derived compounds, to fully understand their efficacy and safety.

An Overview of Androgenic Anabolic Steroids

To better understand the fanfare surrounding laxogenin and other brassinosteroids, it’s important to first understand their taboo analogue, androgenic anabolic steroids, commonly referred to as anabolic steroids or often simply as “steroids”.

AAS’s are one of the most controversial performance enhancing drugs in the realm of athletics. Their efficacy cannot be denied or understated. They act on a variety of mechanisms, but an enzyme called 5-alpha-reductase is almost always involved in breakdown into dihydrotestosterone (DHT), which acts directly on muscle to incur growth.

In clinically monitored settings, strength improvements in the ballpark of 5–20%, as well as lean mass gains of 2–5 kg, have been observed within a short period of time (less than 12 weeks). In one study, a group of participants being administered AAS’s without exercise gained 2 more pounds of muscle within a 12 week period than a group exercising naturally. These effects are observed in clinical settings with controlled dosages. In recreational settings, AAS abusers may administer even greater dosages than those tested in the studies. (1) (2) (3)

As most are well aware, these miracle drugs don’t come without their share of unsavory ramifications, including, but not limited to:

• Rampant libido;

• Increased bodily acne;

• Body hair increase;

• Escalated aggressive or belligerent behavior;

• Regular testosterone production is impaired, permanently in some circumstances;

• Elevated blood pressure, depressed HDL cholesterol (the “good” kind);

• Psychological and behavioral implications, including aggression, hostility, and dependency;

• Disorders affecting the endocrine, immune, and sebaceous systems;

• Urogenital and haemostatic changes;

• Gynecomastia. (1) (4) (5)

Brassinosteroids, by Comparison

Many of these consequences are brought about as a result of the androgenic nature by which these drugs are metabolized. One of the major selling points propped in favor of brassinosteroid supplementation suggests that they have no side effects, because they do not act on androgen receptors in the same way that AAS’s do.

Given the limited available research we have surrounding brassinosteroid safety (and nearly no research surrounding laxogenin as an anabolic agent, in particular), one cannot assure anything in totality about these compounds. However, the limited research we do have appears to indicate that orally ingested/topically applied brassinosteroids do not appear to have any hormonal or androgenic effects. While these indications are promising, without further research (including a meta-analysis or research review), one cannot write off any and all concerns about the safety of the supplement at any dosage. One would be foolish to ascertain complete safety from just one or two studies. (6) (7)

Likewise, the effectiveness of these compounds to produce a promising anabolic effect is also largely up in the air. Some of the only research examining the effects of brassinosteroids measured muscle protein synthesis increases of about 40% (similar to IGF-1), which is a far cry from RedCon1’s claims of 200%. In one study in particular, researchers used 20–60 milligrams per kilogram of body weight on rat muscle tissue. Each capsule of RedCon1's Halo only contains 100 mg of laxogenin. One would have to take the whole $60 bottle to achieve a clinically effective dosage, at this rate. What’s more, these studies tested compounds similar to laxogenin on rat muscle tissue, not even human subjects. The lack of solid research on these compounds suggests that no one in their right mind could recommend a “clinically effective” dosage, nor do the dosages included in popular products currently on the market appear consistent with the research. (6) (7) (8)

The only study supporting RedCon’s audacious claims appears to be a Russian study from 1976 which I am unable to access nor understand. (9) To provide RedCon1 a fair shot at defending their claims, I went ahead and reached out to them via email:

As of publishing, I have yet to receive a response from anybody at the company. I was unable to provide any other research corroborating their claims, even after extensive searching.

When you dig into anecdotal review, you find a polarizing blend of different opinions. (10) (11) (12) It’s worth noting that placebo drugs are a powerful implicator of athletic performance, and many of the people supporting laxogenin may or may not be under the influence of their own psyches, as indicated by a study exploring placebo drugs on athletic performance. (13)

Closing Thoughts

While brassinosteroids exhibit some promise as a potential alternative to traditional androgenic anabolic steroids, their safety and efficacy is largely up in the air. To recap:

• Current producers of brassinosteroid supplements flaunt their non-androgenic nature as all-encompassing safety;

• The available published research surrounding brassinosteroids does not support the audacious marketing claims surrounding their safety, nor the anabolic effects of the supplement;

• While some research signifies promising results for brassinosteroids as an anabolic agent, there is nowhere near enough research to cement their heavily marketed must-have status.

In other words, don’t buy into the marketing, hype, and inadequately supported claims put out by the sales-y types orchestrating these supplement companies. Spend your time, money, and energy more productively elsewhere, perhaps on improving your diet or even cheaper, clinically proven supplements such as creatine and l-citruline.

It’s difficult to ignore the unprecedented rise of Cannabidiol, or CBD, in the fitness space, especially among the powerlifting community. Not to be confused with traditional cannabis consumption and its psychoactive components, CBD is not a psychoactive drug and serves predominantly to treat pain and anxiety. Experiencing some level of aching, pain, and soreness is an inevitable burden of an active lifestyle, so the appeal of an all-natural alternative pain killer is patently obvious. Despite much of the stigma surrounding the cannabis industry, people have steadily warmed up to the notion that cannabis products are not Satan’s boon. Just take a look at the spike in interest represented by the Google Trend data:

As I swiped away Instagram posts and scrolled past advertisements for what some are deeming a cure-all, the clueless cynic in me couldn’t help but begin to ponder on the efficacy, safety, and legitimacy of the product.

If you’re in the same camp as me, worry not; I’ve done our due diligence and compiled a lot of compelling evidence for and against using CBD, and the long story short is that it’s not as hokey as you may think.

Here, I’m going to address the three pillars of drug/supplement value:

1. Efficacy — How well does CBD actually work for killing pain?

2. Drawbacks — We’ll delve into the dirty details, like risks, side effects, cost, and how it compares to similar products touting similar effects.

3. Worth it? — Based on our findings, we’ll effectively conclude whether or not CBD may be the right fit for you.

The Endocannabinoid System — How CBD Addresses Inflammation

Before I address CBD directly, it’s prudent to understand how the Endocannabinoid System functions physiologically. The literature surrounding this topic has developed quite a bit in recent years. The science primarily analyzes how receptors known to react to compounds in cannabis may impact various fields of health. In particular, endocannibinoid research primarily deals with inflammation and appetite control, and the psychoactive properties of some cannabinoids. We could get lost in the details, but I’ll simplify so as to avoid missing the forest for the trees. Endogenous cannabinoids found in the body are synthesized and degraded by cannabinoid receptors. Much of the medicinal and symptomatic properties are brought about by two G protein-coupled receptors (or GCPR’s, for short): CB1 and CB2.

• CB1 receptors are primarily responsible for eliciting the psychoactive effects of Cannabinoids. They are largely located near the nervous system, and are known to be acted upon by compounds like THC, which deliver the high of smoking marijuana.

• CB2 receptors are more closely tied to immune cells and neurons, and result in an anti-inflammatory and pain-killing effect when bound to cannabinoids such as CBD. (1) (2)

For the longest time, the body of research surrounding cannabinoids tended to focus largely on THC, as it was believed that it was the active compound and, thereby, the compound of interest. (3) The good news is that CBD is non-psychoactive. You don’t have to get high to reap the anti-inflammatory benefits of cannabis. Cannabidiol has been demonstrated time and time again to be an effective deterrent of inflammatory agents like TNF-a, IL-6, COX-2, and A2A receptors. (4) Specific studies cited positive effects for subjects with:

• Corneal (eye) inflammation (5)

• Arthritic inflammation (6)

• Pulmonary (lung) inflammation (7)

• Symptoms of multiple sclerosis (8)

• Intestinal inflammation (IBS) (9)

• Epilepsy (10)

• Cancer sensitivity to chemotherapy (11)

But Is the Oil Completely Loyal?

Effects on Muscle Hypertrophy

Though the anti-inflammatory effects of CBD are largely irrefutable, there is always a catch (or, in this case, several) when it comes to any drug.

For one thing, ibuprofen acts on similar physiological mechanisms to CBD, and lends itself well as a generally safe and sustainable alternative to pain killers like acetaminophen. (12) For the folks that float the all-natural boat, CBD would thereby earn its keep as a natural alternative to ibuprofen. Let’s not forget, however, that ibuprofen has been demonstrated to have detrimental long-term effects on hypertrophy and muscle gain, which is a major disservice if your goal is strength-, aesthetic-, or health-oriented. (13) This is believed to be due to ibuprofen’s inhibition of COX-2, an inflammatory agent that has some significance in the mechanisms of muscle hypertrophy. Likewise, as discussed earlier, CBD elicits a similar anti-COX-2 effect, and may very well be detrimental in a similar fashion. (14)

Long-Term Safety

Despite the evangelical praise from proponents of CBD for its apparent safety, the fact of the matter is that the drug has not been under the limelight long enough to be put through its paces in a long-term scientific setting. (15) The implications of long-standing CBD use are simply an unopened Pandora’s box at this juncture, and none can conclusively speak on its sustainability into the distant future. Taking it regularly means that you are subjecting yourself to becoming a scientific guinea pig of the community.

Legality and Lack of Regulation

In many jurisdictions, cannabis products (psychoactive or otherwise) are prohibited by law. If you plan on using cannabis products of any kind, you may have to jump through legal hoops just to gain access. Beyond that, the use of CBD in competitive sport is a gray area. Until very recently, the World Anti Doping Agency (commonly abbreviated as WADA) had enveloped CBD products into its ban on all cannabis products. Even though CBD is now permitted by WADA, not every competitive organization adheres by WADA’s guidelines, and all other cannabis products are still considered banned substances. (16)

On that note, not all CBD products contain purely CBD. Extracting solely CBD from cannabis is a convoluted process, and it is entirely plausible that traces of other cannabinoids could wind up in your mixture. As with other supplements and drugs, such as preworkout, not all CBD products are created equally. The lack of regulatory scrutiny only exacerbates these pitfalls; you can’t be absolutely certain about the contents of your CBD product. On top of all of that, the dosage requirements for CBD vary wildly by case to case, and if manufacturer’s are not truthful in their labeling, you may be in for more dose experimentation than worth bargaining for.

The Verdict

While CBD undeniably has positive pain-killing effects without the highs provided by its counterparts, like any drug it comes with its drawbacks and should be used sparingly. Like Ibuprofen, occasional usage is unlikely to result in any significant detriment, but you probably wouldn’t take Ibuprofen every day, either. Still, if it’s legal in your area and won’t cost you qualification in a competitive sport, it’s safe enough to earn my personal stamp of approval.

If you decide to purchase a CBD product, you can find them in oil form, which can be consumed or applied topically, and capsule form. Due to my lack of personal experience with the product, I can’t shill for any brand in particular, but there are plenty of options available on Amazon, all of which hover around the price point of 40 dollars.

10–20 mg appears to be an effective dosage for mitigating pain, so 2500 mg should be more than enough for quite some time. Just be sure to do some basic research behind the brand and gather data from both users and critics to ensure that you get the best value for your money and a properly dosed product.